Monsters
by LarryKenobi
Summary: Shizuo and Vorona struggle with their own personal demons after parting ways a year earlier. However, when Shizuo is blamed for a kidnapping he did not commit and Vorona is caught in the web of mystery surrounding the event, the two find themselves thrust together once more.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

"You think you can come in here and just demand money from us? What do we look like to you, a bunch of pussies?"

Shizuo eyed the kid standing in front of him with an even eye. Hiro Kojima, according to Tom. Hair dyed blue, cocky smirk on his face, gold chains hanging from his neck. A rich boy playing gangster, cut off from the family fortune and unable to cope with the quality of life that came with it. He had seen it countless times; bored, stupid kids wanting some sort of thrill, coming to Ikebukuro to get a taste of some action. They take out loans so they can play out their fantasies, not once considering how they are going to pay them off. Spoiled brats like this guy pissed him off.

They were standing in the hallway of an apartment building, just outside room 316, which apparently served as the "headquarters" of this blue-haired kid's gang. The kid was flanked by four others, who, Shizuo assumed, were members of said gang. One, a rather beefy bald man in a tank tap, brandished his lead pipe threateningly. Another, with dark greasy hair to his shoulders and a general slimy feel about him, was eyeing up Shizuo with a hungry look in his eye. The third was grinning stupidly, apparently pleased with his boss's handling of the situation thus far, and fiddling with the brass knuckles on his right hand. The fourth, a pale skinny kid with his baseball cap on backwards, only seemed to grow whiter with every word that Kojima spouted.

"Look, it's not up to me," Tom said with a sigh, "Not my fault you got debts to pay. Just my job to collect."

"Screw that. You can shove that piece of-"

But the pale, skinny guy grabbed Kojima by the shoulder and said, "Hey man, maybe just-take it easy."

"Seriously? What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Kojima asked, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder. "We ain't gonna take this shit!"

"Dude…don't you know who that is?" the other kid hissed, his eyes darting to Shizuo, "That's Shizuo Heiwajima."

The blue haired kid turned from his friend and threw an appraising look in Shizuo's direction, taking in the out-of-place bartender uniform and blonde hair. From behind his sunglasses, Shizuo rolled his eyes; it was the same thing every time. Now it would go one of two ways. One, kid's eyes would go wide with fear and he would break down. He'd beg for forgiveness and hurry away to get some cash. Or, two…

"Oh really?" the blue haired kid said, a smirk coming across his face, " _This_ is _the_ Shizuo Heiwajima? You sure about that?"

"Pretty sure," Backwards Hat whimpered, slinking back a step.

Kojima laughed. Shizuo gritted his teeth.

"Well, I've got to say, I'm flattered," Kojima said, "The Banker must think something of me if he's are sending Shizuo Heiwajima, huh?"

Tom shrugged and said, "I kind of doubt it; the jobs are given out at random as far as I know."

The blue haired kid frowned. "Was I talking to you? Didn't think so. So just shut up, huh?"

Shizuo's grip tightened around the cigarette he was smoking. Tom eyed Shizuo, giving him a tired, silent plea to not to lose his temper, which only served to fan the flames further.

 _No. This punk isn't worth it._

The dreadlocked debt collector then turned back to the blue haired kid and said, "Let me tell you this. I've seen too many guys like you make the same mistakes you're making right now. Nobody needs to get hurt. Now, if can just figure this out and-"

"You know," Kojima interrupted, "They say Shizuo Heiwajima can throw cars and shit. That he rips light poles straight outta the ground. That he can survive having cranes dropped on him from twenty stories up. Pretty crazy, huh?"

He smiled and took a step towards Shizuo, looking him right in the eye.

"You know what I think though?"

Shizuo took in a deep breath. _Calm…_

"Enlighten me," he growled.

"I think that's all a bunch of bullshit," Kojima said, "Rumors you spread on the Internet. I know you used to be part of the Dollars. You probably just built up that persona on their forums and shit. Pretty smart, honestly. With half of Ikebukuro on the Dollar's website, all you had to was have you and some friends create a bunch of different profiles and then spread the word of your "extraordinary powers" and soon everyone and their mother would know about how tough Shizuo Heiwajima was."

"Then people like this loser here," he jabbed a thumb at Backwards Cap, "are too scared shitless to pick a fight with you. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you can handle yourself just fine, enough to pull through a couple scraps to help legitimize yourself. But some of that shit man, that's straight outta a manga, and I ain't dumb enough to fall for it. That's straight up monster shit man, and there ain't no such thing as monsters."

"Kid, you obviously have not been in Ikebukuro long," Shizuo said quietly, "Or else you live with your head shoved up your ass."

"The hell did you just say to me?"

"You heard me."

"Shizuo," Tom said warningly.

"If anyone's gonna have their head up their asses, it's going to be—"

"Hiro, please man," Backwards Hat said, speaking up again, "Let's just pay these guys and—"

"Shut the hell up Takeshi," Kojima interrupted, "We ain't giving these guys shit. In fact, we're going to have a bit of fun with them."

The other three other gangsters all seemed to perk up at this, exchanging manic grins and eyeing up Shizuo.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Kojima, surely you must realize that, even if you were to take us, the Banker would merely send more people after you? We can still settle this peacefully."

"Ha, you think anyone's going to mess with us after we've finished off Shizuo Heiwajima?" Kojima said as three of his cronies started to slowly fan out, "Nah, you've done a good job, and now we're gonna cash in on it!"

Tom sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose, massaging his forehead. "You're really pushing your luck…"

"Say, where's that legendary temper of yours Heiwajima?" Kojima said, ignoring Tom and turning his attention back to Shiuzo. "I would have expected you to be kicking my teeth in by now. Or was that just a lie as well?"

It took an enormous effort not to unleash himself on Kojima, but Shizuo took a deep drag from his cigarette and just stared at him from behind his violet-tinted sunglasses.

"Oh, come on now!" Kojima said. "I want to see the _real_ Shizuo Heiwajima! The uncontrolled rage! The furious, unstoppable force of nature! Prove me wrong! Show me just how wrong I am! Show me the monster!"

Shizuo's fists clenched, fingernails digging deeply into the palms of his hands. His body was electric, angry energy looking for any sort of outlet. Kojima continued to stare him down, a gleeful madness in his eyes. A look that every inch of him ached to wipe off his face. But he held the urge at bay. He wouldn't let his anger consume him.

Kojima laughed. "That's what I thought; you ain't nothing but a fake."

His eyes lit up, his sick grin growing deep. "Or maybe that chick took your balls with her. That blonde bitch realize what you are and leave? Shame, heard she was a fine piece of—"

The blue haired kid crashed through the cheap wooden door of his apartment, Shizuo just barely catching a look of surprise flashing across the kid's expression before his fist connected. Kojima smashed one layer of dry wall. Then two. His body came to an abrupt halt as it embedded an inch into the outer wall.

The one named Takeshi stumbled backwards, eyes bulging and falling over himself. The others, however, had an opposite reaction to what had just happened.

"Get 'em!" the idiot with brass knuckles shouted, charging towards Shizuo, swinging his fist wildly.

Shizuo let the anger burn, let it fuel the power behind his fists. He sidestepped the attack before countering with one of his own. His knuckles lodged beneath the wannabe's chin for a fraction of a second. The kid launched upwards, bursting into the ceiling and then falling back down to the floor with a thud.

Eyeing his fallen comrade for a brief second, the greasy gangster drew a switchblade and charged forward. Shizuo dodged again, but had to quickly duck underneath a swing from the largest gangster. Seeing an opening, the greasy kid slashed again. The blade sliced through flesh, causing a red streak to come across the sleeve of Shizuo's white undershirt. The gangster grinned manically and slashed again, certain that he had wounded his opponent. But Shizuo stepped sideways, feeling no pain from the wound, and grabbed the man's wrist as it flew past. Smiling wildly, Shizuo squeezed. The sound of snapping bones filled the air, soon joined by the greasy kid's screams and the clattering of the knife on hardwood.

Shizuo felt a dull hit to the back of his head. He turned to see a lead pipe glistening with red blood, a shocked look across the face of its owner.

"What the hell…" the gangster said, barely audible over his comrade's continued yells of pain.

The shock didn't hold long though and the gangster's expression hardened. He swung at Shizuo, a strike aimed at his head. An adrenaline-fueled smile still on his face, Shizuo brought his free arm between his face and the incoming pipe. The pipe connected, the disturbing sound of metal crushing bone served as his only indication that his forearm was broken. The greasy kid still firmly in his grip, Shizuo swung the screaming fool into his comrade, letting go as the two bodies collided. The momentum sent both tumbling into the wall at the end of the hall, crumpling in a heap.

"Shit!"

The cry came from the one called Takeshi as he scrambled to his feet, his eyes locked in fear on Shizuo. He started to sprint down the hall, but almost immediately fell on his face, tripping over the outstretched leg of Tom. The gangster groaned as Tom crouched down next to him.

"You want to get that cash now?" Tom asked

Takeshi mumbled an affirmative, slowly turning over and revealing his broken nose, which was bleeding profusely. Tom gestured for the kid to lead on as he stood to his full height. As Takeshi got slowly to his full height, Tom looked to Shizuo, who was breathing heavily, the adrenaline of the moment starting to wear off.

"Didn't have a choice. They weren't going to back off," Tom said, giving his friend a consoling pat on the back as he followed Takeshi into the apartment.

"Yeah, I guess," Shizuo grunted, giving a final look at the three unconscious gangsters in the hall before following Tom.

No further words were exchanged. Takeshi took them into one of the bedrooms where there was a safe. As the kid opened it and handed over what was due, Shizuo wandered out of the room, lost in his thoughts. It was true, he supposed, that they were going to attack regardless. He couldn't have stopped that. But did it always have to be this way? Would his name, his face, always bring about these same conflicts over and over again?

He found that he had wandered into the room where Kojima had landed. The blue haired kid leaned weakly against the wall, his face etched in pain and his hairline and mouth splattered with blood. His eyes wandered shakily over to Shizuo; gone was the cocky ignorance, replaced by all-too-knowing fear.

"Wha—what the hell are you?"

The words hung limply in the air as Shizuo looked at the broken figure before him. Kojima would live, as would the other three; he had yet to fall into his rage so deeply that he could not control his strength.

Shizuo looked at the kid for another moment longer, understanding the fear Kojima felt.

"Guess there are monsters out there, huh kid?"

He lit a cigarette, stared out the window for a second or two, lost in the oranges of the waning sun, before turning heel to help his friend collect what they had come for.


	2. Chapter 2: Pull the Trigger

"There's that saying, what is it again? Something like...it's pouring pets? No, that's not right."

Vorona bit the inside of her cheek as she looked through her binoculars at the building across from hers, waiting for light to illuminate the corner room on the twenty-second floor. It should be happening soon; her father was known for his punctuality, among other things, and the meeting was set to occur at eight sharp. Cold rain soaked into her black garb and her blonde hair, though she hardly felt it. Her sole focus was on the corner room on the twenty-second floor.

"Do you mean, 'it's raining cats and dogs?'" Vorona replied into her mic.

"Oh, yes, that's it." Slon's words skirted around the edges of her concentration. "It's raining cats and dogs. Where would such a saying come from? It doesn't make much sense, does it?"

The words slipped from her lips automatically; she hardly realized she was saying them. "The origin of the English phrase is unknown. Some believe it to have connections to the Norse god, Odin, the Norse god of storms, who was often pictured with dogs and wolves, which were symbols of wind. Witches, who supposedly rode their brooms during storms, were often pictured with black cats, which became signs of heavy rain. Therefore, 'raining cats and dogs' may refer to a storm with wind and heavy rain. There are other theories as well, having to do with the perversion of an outdated English term for waterfall or that it may have come a Greek expression."

"I feel as if it actually rained animals, there would be a lot less hungry people in the world."

Vorona's eyes narrowed as she thought she saw movement in the room. It must have just been a glint on the window, however, for nothing stirred after a solid minute. She looked down at her watch. It was eight. Where was he?

"I doubt it," Vorona said, picking up the conversation, "It would be comedized in some way. Corporations or governments would take advantage of it the same as any other natural resource. Besides, water falls from the sky, and people die of thirst every day."

"Hmm," Slon said, "Maybe not such a good idea. Think of the property damage as well. Some people do eat cats and dogs though, right? I wonder what that tastes like? I can't imagine it tasting good."

"From what I understand, beef or chicken is preferable."

8:01. The corner room on the twenty-second floor remained dark. Something was wrong.

Had Gregor lied to her? He had said that her father would be meeting a client in the corner room on the twenty-second floor at eight o'clock. Her father was a difficult man to track down, though he had made the mistake of sending Hans after her. She couldn't blame him; other than herself, Hans had been his most capable employee. Though it appeared he was just as loyal as she was to her father. It had not taken much to gain what details the hitman had on her father's whereabouts. Had it been too easy?

No. He wouldn't have dared.

Unless there was something he feared more than her. More than death.

"Slon, we need to—"

But then the corner room on the twenty-second lit up, the sudden illumination cutting Vorona short. She brushed a dripping strand of hair from her face and peered down her binoculars. Four people had entered the room. Two, her father's bodyguards, stood near the door as her father handed the fourth man his soaked jacket. The fourth man, clearly muscled even through his suit and sporting a thick grey mustache to make up for the lack of hair on his skull, graciously took the jacket and gestured for her father to sit as he hung their wet outer garments. Vorona felt herself involuntarily taking in a quick gasp of air as she took in the visage of Drakon, her father, for the first time in years. He looked the same; pale face drawn taught, dark shadows under his pale violet eyes that so matched her own. The two men took seats on opposite sides of the single desk in the room, her father sitting closer to the door and facing her.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"I—no," Vorona said, "Target is in position."

"Okay. Good luck. I'll be waiting with the truck."

"Thanks, Slon."

Vorona slipped her binoculars into her pack and then reached for the rifle next to her. Brushing her dripping hair from her face, she brought the scope up to eye level. She took in a breath as she leveled the crosshairs just up and to the right of her father's head, adjusting for the wind. Her finger wrapped around the cool metal of the trigger.

This is what he had raised her to be. He had taken advantage of a young girl's sudden fascination with the power one could feel when holding the life another in their grasp, had trained her to explore this fascination until it was all she cared about. For so long she had lived to kill, pushed not only by her own desire to feel the adrenaline of battle, but also by the fact that it was this, her ability to take the lives of others, that had finally made her father take notice of her. She had chosen the life of a monster, but if anyone else were to blame for what she had become, it was the man with the pale violet eyes sitting across the way.

He had left her no choice; ever since she and Slon had run to Japan, he had been sending people after her. Egor, the seventh more dangerous assassin in Russia, Roman, an ex-KGB agent, and finally Hans. And he would keep sending them until they finally succeeded.

At one point and time, she may have relished the challenge, may have even welcomed the idea of having to face the best of the best. But…something had changed during her time in Ikebukuro. She had the smallest taste of what life could be like outside the world of gunrunning and assassinations and, despite what she had told herself for the longest time, she realized that maybe there was a place for her outside of this world. She wanted to try, at very least, to lead a normal life, to see if she could somehow escape the monster that she had become.

But she would not be allowed this chance, not until she had dealt with her father. Not only because he would not cease to hunt her, but because she needed to remove that part of her if she wanted to move forward. She needed to embrace the monster if she were to eventually turn from it. If she could turn from it at all.

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

She inhaled once, steadying her rifle.

Then, somehow, across the darkness and distance between them, her father seemed to look directly at her, his gaze staring directly down the barrel of her rifle and through the scope to her own.

Her finger squeezed and a light retort echoed in her ears.


	3. Chapter 3: Reunion

It was done. She had done it.

Emotion flooded her system. Relief, that it was over, that she would no longer be hunted, was the one that she tried to focus on the most. Yet others vied for her attention, cropping up where they were not wanted. Despite the relief she felt flood through her body, she could not ignore the tightening in her stomach. Her father was dead, gone. And even though they had always had a tumultuous relationship, when they had one at all, the fact that he was gone meant that she was alone. There would be no eventual re, no tearful reunion. And even more conflicting than the heaviness that was settling in her gut was the wild elation she felt. Her fingers tingled and her heart pounded against her chest. The excitement of the hunt, the power of crushing another beneath her heel, electrified her. Perhaps not as much as before, for no fight could compare to adrenaline rush she felt when she fought with…him. But it was still there, the primal ecstasy that seemed so ingrained into her being.

It made her sick.

She focused her scope on the corner room, needing to confirm that she had succeeded. She saw that her father's two bodyguards had leapt forward, one kneeling down next to his fallen form, the other crouching next to the desk, scanning for where the shot had come from but looking, for now, in the wrong direction. The man that her father had been meeting with, however, was staring across the way, looking across the rooftops, before his eyes finally seemed to land on her. There was no way he could see her, no way he could know where she was. But his gaze did not shift.

She needed to leave. Now.

Vorona quickly slung the rifle over her back and scrambled to her feet. The rain continued to fall, the drops only getting larger and coming with greater frequency. She threw the hood of her black jacket up over her head and sprinted for the door. Something felt wrong.

"Slon—it's done. Pick me up at the rendezvous point."

No answer. Static.

"Slon, respond now."

This wasn't right…

"Slon?"

 _It's a trap. They knew we were coming._

Vorona reached the door, but as she reached for the handle, it began to turn on its own. Her hand instantly went to her hip, her fingers slipping over the cool metal of the pistol there. The door flew open. Vorona moved without thinking, the barrel of the handgun barely leveled before she squeezed the trigger. The silhouetted figure in the doorway stumbled backward, a yell of surprise and pain coming from him as the bullet winged him in the shoulder. Vorona quickly aimed another shot at the figure. Her mind was racing. How had they known? If they knew, why did they let her take the shot? What had happened to…

"Slon?" Vorona gasped, her finger falling from the trigger that she was about to squeeze. The figure in the doorway had stumbled back into the light and the familiar features of her comrade were now illuminated in fluorescent.

"Dammit. I—I'm sorry, I thought—" But her words failed her. Her instincts had taken over…her automatic reaction to treat everything as a threat had caused her to shoot her friend.

"I'm…fine," Slon grunted as he took a step forward, "But I would feel better if you stop pointing that thing at me and start explaining what the hell is going on."

Vorona lowered her weapon and forced down the guilt. Slon was fine and dwelling on what had just happened wouldn't help their current situation. "We need to move. Target is down."

Slon nodded, a grim look on his face.

"Why'd you come up?" Vorona asked, stepping towards Slon. "You were supposed to stay with the van."

"You weren't responding," Slon said through gritted teeth, his hand pressed up against his bleeding shoulder. "Thought something was wrong, came to check it out. Obviously a bad choice."

Vorona frowned. "I never heard anything…"

"As you shouldn't have," a voice said from the darkness behind Slon.

Vorona's companion spun around at the sound, coming face to face with the barrel of a handgun. As he spun, however, his uninjured arm came up in an attempt to disarm whoever it was that was behind him. Few could match Slon in combat, but this newest figure had gotten the drop on him and had already pulled the trigger of his weapon before Slon's strike could connect. A thump emitted from the weapon and Vorona could only watch as her friend slumped to the ground. Her own pistol was raising on its own, her hands mindlessly bringing it to bear, her trigger finger squeezing on its own accord. But the mysterious attacker had already dove for cover, taking up a position beside the doorway. She couldn't tell if she had managed to hit him or not, but her aim hovered where she had seen him disappear, ready to fire at the slightest movement that would emerge. She tried to not look at the crumpled form of Slon; there would be nothing she could do for him if she let her guard down now.

"I believe that it would be in your best interest to lower your weapon," the mysterious attacker said from his hiding place. "Your friend is not dead, not yet at least. But only by cooperating will he remain amongst the living. You see, he has taken a poisoned dart to the chest, albeit at much closer range than I would have preferred, but just same. It appears that the impact of the dart has not killed him, luckily, though it will only be a matter of minutes before the poison will change that. Your father has the antidote and will gladly administrate it to your comrade in exchange for your cooperation."

While the mysterious stranger had been speaking, Vorona had been slowly inching herself to her left, hoping to get an angle on her opponent. "My father is dead. Your offer is worthless."

The stranger chuckled. "Dead, my dear? Hardly. Though I must confess, he certainly took more risks than were necessary in my opinion."

"You're a fool then," Vorona said, anger steadily building towards this man, "I took the shot myself. And I don't miss."

"No, you certainly don't," the stranger replied. "Which is part of the reason your father requires your aid. Now, if you might disarm yourself so that we can help your friend here."

Vorona said nothing, just crept closer, her gun held steady in the rain. It was pointless…even if Slon had been poisoned and wasn't dead already, the chances of her acquiring the antidote through surrender had died with her father. Her only choice was to hope she could somehow locate it and take it by force.

"I can see you won't be persuaded, even with your comrade dying here. If you don't mind I—" He paused, though Vorona could not tell why. She was almost within striking distance, a couple more steps and she could risk a full out sprint at the man and hope to catch him off guard.

"It seems that your father has recovered enough to speak to you now," the man said, "I will slide my phone out to you and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't take my hand off with it."

Vorona tensed. What was he playing at? Why keep up this charade?

Then, movement at the doorway. She fired once, twice at its source and saw something slide across the concrete towards her. A yelp of pain that came from the darkness alerted her that she had indeed wounded her target. Vorona allowed herself to steal a glance at the object; it was, as the man had suggested, a phone. And, on its face was the gaunt look of her father, his face bloodied but his violet eyes still sharp. She found herself reaching down for it, as if in a daze, raindrops splattering on the screen as she picked it up. There was no mistaking his face, the callous look in his eyes.

"I hope you didn't hurt poor Viktor too badly," he said. "He was only carrying out my orders. Now, if you would mind surrendering your weapons to him, if he still lives, I would like to see you in person. It's been much too long."


	4. Chapter 4: Ruminations over Sushi

"Well, he did a good job," Tom said, "Can't even tell how beat up you were."

Shizuo nodded as his friend put another piece of sushi into his mouth. "Shinra always does good work."

Tom chewed and swallowed. "True. Your friends doing alright?"

"Fine, I suppose." Shizuo picked at a roll with his chopsticks. "Didn't see Celty. Shinra was annoyingly happy, but who knows what that really means. The world could be ending, but as long as Celty was there he would insist that everything's perfect."

Tom snorted. "This guy sounds like he's got a screw loose."

"Oh, he does. No doubt about that," Shizuo replied. "But he's alright. Just…obsessive."

"A bit too much so?"

"Probably," Shizuo said, still picking at his food. "But whatever works for them."

Tom nodded sagely and took another bite of his food. Silence fell between them, the odd conversations going on among the patrons of Russia Sushi now taking over. Shizuo moved one of his rolls over, eyeing it blankly. He supposed he hadn't really taken the time to think about it, but he just realized that he and Celty had barely spoken over the last several months. Things had died down as much as they could in a place like Ikebukuro; the strange happenings between gangsters and the supernatural coming to a near standstill after what had been quite a tumultuous time. His path hardly ever crossed that of the Headless Rider any more, or any of the others who had been caught up in the crazy occurrences that had plagued the neighborhood.

He knew why, of course. Or at least, he had a very strong suspicion. It seemed that without Izaya Orihara pulling the strings from the sidelines, the denizens of Ikebukuro got along much more nicely, or at the very least were content to keep to themselves. There was still crime, of course, but Ikebukuro would always have crime, and it was no longer dragging the multiple factions within the neighborhood into constant conflicts with each other. And the supernatural occurrences had all but disappeared. Celty still worked as a transporter in the open, and while the police occasionally gave chase, there appeared to now be some sort of understanding between the two. The business with the Slasher victims (the details of which were still foggy to Shizuo) had disappeared with the wind, almost forgotten by the public by now.

Ikebukuro, it appeared, had finally reached some semblance of peace.

Shizuo had recognized what kind of damage Izaya was capable of, but he hadn't guessed how embroiled into these conflicts the information broker truly was. The thoughts of Izaya caused anger to rumble in the pit of his stomach; he should have crushed the worm when he had the chance. The fact that he was willing to manipulate so many, to cause mayhem and throw people's lives around like pawns on a chess board, all for his personal entertainment, fueled his anger towards his rival to no end. But Izaya had escaped, possibly to do the same thing elsewhere. And it had been her fault. She had stopped him from delivering the fatal blow by delivering her own strike, one that had wounded but not killed.

There were times that Shizuo found himself angry had what Vorona had done. Izaya Orihara had not died that night, and was still free to create chaos for his own pleasure. But he often found that this anger often was not sustained, because perhaps her actions had saved them all from an even greater danger.

It had certainly saved him, at the very least.

To this day, he was not sure whether Vorona had stopped him from killing Izaya that evening for his own sake, or to stop him from turning into something that would cause even more destruction. He told himself often that it was the latter, that she had understood what it would mean to have him entirely consumed by his anger, to have become a killer. He told himself this because it made things easier. It was less complicated to think of her this way.

But if that had truly been the case, she should have just let him finish off Izaya and then fire her knife into his own skull rather than into Izaya's gut. That would have been the logical solution. Perhaps she had not thought it through, that she hadn't the luxury of playing the moment over in her head for months like he had. But Vorona wasn't one to make such mistakes.

It was along these lines of thought that he had to reassert himself, tell himself that she had to have made a poor judgement. It was just easier that way, rather than consider the alternatives that would only lead to conclusions that seemed pointless to entertain. The fact of the matter was, however, that she had saved him that day, and he intended to make sure that her efforts weren't in vain, regardless of intention.

"Not hungry?" Tom asked, eyeing Shizuo's untouched plate. The words dragged him from his thoughts, which was probably a good thing.

"Eh," Shizuo replied, lifting up a roll and inspecting it.

Tom looked at his friend with a diagnostic eye, likely trying to discern what was on his mind. Shizuo wouldn't have cared, but Tom was better at this than most people he knew.

"You know," Tom said carefully, "it wasn't your fault. They were looking for a fight from the beginning. Nothing you could have done to change that."

Shizuo gave his friend a confused look for a moment, then realized that he was speaking about what had happened at Hiro Kojima's.

"Yeah," Shizuo said, giving a noncommittal shrug. "Still…"

"What?"

"Nothing," Shizuo said, setting down the roll that he had been contemplating. "You want some of this?"

Tom raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, knowing that pushing Shizuo into talking about something he didn't want to talk about was a pointless endeavor. Instead he took one of Shizuo's rolls and plopped it into to his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully.

Of course, it wasn't 'nothing.' On top of his own personal fears, Shizuo's actions were making life difficult for Tom. His friend would never admit it, but Shizuo knew that he was struggling to find customers. Given their "success" Tom had decided to try his own hand at lending money to the undesirables of Ikebukuro. Risking business, certainly, especially when he might muscle in on others already established. But with Shizuo at his side and his generally fair rates, the business move had largely been a success.

However, as time went on, more people were afraid to borrow money from him. They knew that if they somehow fouled up, they would have to deal with Shizuo. Some were even under the impression that Shizuo came after you regardless of whether you owed or not. While working as his muscle had helped Tom for a time, it seemed that his reputation was now starting to have the opposite effect. It had even gotten to the point where Tom started to take on collection jobs from others, using said reputation for gain. But Shizuo knew that overall the business was suffering. He also knew that Tom would never discuss it with him, nor would he ask Shizuo to leave. If things got bad enough, Shizuo would quit voluntarily; he wouldn't let Tom go down because he couldn't control himself.

He truly hoped that it wouldn't come to that. Tom was really the only friend he had left. In some twisted, cruel sort of irony, it seemed that Izaya's games had provided a connection between all those involved, including Shizuo himself. It was through Izaya's puppeteering that he had met so many over the last couple years, had even formed some semblance of friendship with them. Now, free of Izaya's meddling, everyone had slowly gone their own ways, returned to their normal lives. It was strange to think, but at times he missed the way things had been. He could have done without the constant threats to his life, but for the first time in his life, he had felt that his power could be used for good, not just destruction. He had thought perhaps he could be more than just the abnormality most saw, and he had people in his life that he thought he could call friends. Now, all that remained of that was Tom, who had been there even before everything had gone down. If they too had to part ways…

But maybe that was the way things had to be. Perhaps it had been foolish to think that he could find acceptance in this world, to find a place where he belonged. Perhaps he was truly cursed to only bring destruction to everything around him.

"We don't have to come here, you know," Tom said suddenly.

Shizuo jerked his head up, looking at his friend, who was finishing his last sushi roll with a slow thoughtfulness. "What, why?"

"You know—"

"No…what are you talking about?"

Tom shrugged, giving Shizuo a half smile, like they both knew what he was talking about. "There's this old record store downtown. Mitsu's. You might know it? Anyways, I used to go there all the time. Great atmosphere, great music, even better people. Met a girl there, Raku, remember her?"

Shizuo nodded slowly, starting to see where this was going.

"Well, you also likely remember how that ended up," Tom continued. "I kept going back to Mitsu's afterwards, but it wasn't the same, couldn't stand it after a while. So, yeah, I don't go there anymore. It sucks, 'cause I loved that place, but…had to move on, you know?"

Shizuo stared down his friend, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. They had met her here, as far as Tom knew at least. In fact, the first thing that Tom had said to her was some horribly garbled pick-up line in Russian, one that had evidently not made any sense. It was a good memory, one that harked upon times that were simultaneously the worst and yet somehow the best of his life. And while he had not recalled this memory while they had been sitting there, nor was it the cause of his even sulkier than usual attitude as Tom assumed, there was no denying the bittersweet feeling that swept through him upon its recollection.

"It's not like that," Shizuo said, "Just—got other things on my mind."

Tom nodded, his knowing look still not leaving his face. "Alright, tough guy. Though I'm honestly glad that you love to bottle up your feelings. I was instantly regretting suggesting that we not come here anymore; I'd miss the Siberian rolls too much."

Shizuo found himself smiling. "So, it was an empty offer then?"

"No…but I would've been depressed for weeks."

"Guilt tripping as well?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to be a good friend!"

"Uh-huh," Shizuo said, still smiling. "But really? The Siberian rolls? Do you even know what-?"

A ringing tone from his pocket cut his sentence short. He quickly dug out his phone and checked to see who was calling. The name "Kasuka" was displayed across the screen. Shizuo's mind jumped around to possible answers to a single question: why was his brother calling him? They rarely communicated, though that was mostly Shizuo's doing. The less his brother had to do with him, the better his brother would be off. Kasuka generally respected Shizuo's decision, so the fact that he was calling likely meant that it was important.

Shizuo hit the button to answer the call and said, "Kasuka?"

From across the line, the calm tone of his brother filled his ears. "Hello brother. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Shizuo said, a bit impatiently, "What's up?"

"I was just curious if you would be available to meet tomorrow morning? At the Java Den, perhaps?

Shizuo sighed. "You know I don't really want—"

"Please. It's quite important to me that you be there."

Despite his patient tone, Shizuo could tell that there was slight strain in the words. Something was up, he could tell. Something Kasuka didn't feel comfortable speaking about over the phone.

"Alright," Shizuo said, "What time?"

"Does eight o'clock work for you?"

"Sure."

"Great," Kasuka said, the inflection in his words hardly changing, "I can't wait to see you again brother. Bye."

"Bye," Shizou said, then hung up his phone.

"Tsk, tsk. Didn't even clear it with the boss," Tom said, winking. "We were _supposed_ to go collect Yuko's downtown but now…"

"Sorry."

Tom waved a hand. "I suppose I can handle him myself, if I must."

Shizuo raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh yes, I'm sure. That gym membership seems to be paying off."

Tom flexed a bicep and examined it. "You think so?"

"No," Shizuo said, standing up from his seat, leaving behind the money for his mostly uneaten meal. "I think you should look into getting a refund. Or maybe try going more than once a month."

Tom frowned. "For your information, I work out at least three times a week."

"When was the last time you went?"

"Uh…last Tuesday," Tom conceded, "But it's been a busy week! I haven't had a chance to—"

Shizuo listened to his friend's excuses half-heartedly, but his true thoughts were on Kasuka. What was it that he needed to talk about? Were he and Ruri in trouble again? He almost wished that he had insisted that they speak this evening; the thought of his brother possibly being in danger would keep him up all night. Not that it mattered much. His thoughts regarding Izaya Orihara, his own dangerous power, and a certain blonde Russian assassin were already doing that.

Might as well add one more thing to that list.


	5. Chapter 5: A Bartender's Advice

Shizuo stepped into the coffee shop, trying to ignore the looks in his direction. These looks only increased as he slipped into the booth across from his brother, who had drawn most of the patrons' attention. Even though there were roughly thirty pairs of eyes that were constantly looking over their phones and menus in his direction, Kasuka sipped at his coffee and stared out through the window at the passersby on the street.

"Hey," Shizuo said as he sat down, garnering the attention of his brother.

"Brother," Kasuka said in his monotone way, eyeing Shizuo with his customary steady gaze, "I'm glad you could make it."

"No problem," Shizuo said, throwing a look at a girl seated directly behind his brother, causing her eyes to dive back down to her phone. "So, what's up?"

"Always right to the point," Kasuka said idly. "I can always count on you for that."

Shizuo raised an eyebrow but didn't answer.

"I can count on you for a lot of things, actually," Kasuka continued, his face not betraying anything he was feeling. If Shizuo didn't know any better, he would have wondered if his brother was feeling anything. They were polar opposites in that department.

"And?" Shizuo said, his irritation at the prying eyes all around them growing every second. He had garnered a certain reputation within Ikebukuro, but it was nothing compared to Kasuka's stardom. He wasn't sure how his sibling could handle it, the constant gawking and swarms of people wanting to know his every move.

Kasuka broke eye contact. He looked down at his drink and tapped his finger against it repeatedly. It was a normal action for most people, but Shizuo could tell that Kasuka was uncomfortable, or as close as he could be. He was never this fidgety, his actions were always measured and purposeful. Something was wrong.

"I guess I would like your thoughts on something," Kasuka said, his eyes now wandering to the window again.

"Uh…sure."

"What do you think of Ruri? Do you like her?"

Shizuo stared at his brother, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Honestly, he hadn't spent enough time with Ruri to form that much of an opinion of her; she was quiet like Kasuka and that coupled with the fact that she seemed afraid of him hadn't led them to have many conversations. Was Kasuka's girlfriend in trouble again? Was that why he had asked Shizou to come here, to ask for help? It would explain his agitation…

"Er…she's fine, I guess?" Shizuo said, "Why?"

Kasuka's voice lowered even more so than his normal quiet tone, his eyes still staring at the pedestrians. "I—well…I like her and I wanted hear your thoughts."

"Why would you care what I think? She's _your_ girlfriend."

"Because I don't want to drag you into a situation that you don't want to be a part of," Kasuka said.

"What do you mean?" Shizuo asked. Kasuka was clearly dancing around whatever he truly wanted to talk about. He then lowered his voice and said, "If you both are in some sort of trouble, you know I'll do whatever I can to help."

"No, no trouble. Nothing like that." Kasuka paused, his gaze lingering out the window. "It's quite the opposite, in fact, I think. Can I ask you if you have ever loved someone?"

Shizuo froze, caught completely off guard by the question. He found himself speaking before he could even fully think over what had been asked.

"Well, uh, no," he replied, "Not really."

Kasuka nodded ever so slightly. "Well, I think I love her. I can't think of any other way to describe it. It's something I've never felt before."

Shizuo's mind was still trying to catch up with the direction their conversation had taken. Romantic relationships were the last thing he had been expecting to Kasuka to ask him about. He couldn't think of anything to say for he had no idea how his brother expected him to reply. Did he want some sort of congratulations? Advice? Reassurance of his feelings? Persuasion against it for some reason?

Shizuo had never really allowed himself to delve too deeply into the concept. For the longest time, he had convinced himself that nobody could ever love a monster like himself, so thinking on it would do him no good. There were times when his resolve was weaker than others, but generally he had to hold this mentality. It was better to just accept this fate than to pine after something that would never happen. So he found himself hopelessly unsure of what to say to his brother on the subject, and could only sit there in silence as Kasuka stared out the window.

"I'm thinking about asking her to marry me," Kasuka said, his voice barely above that of a whisper, perhaps to avoid the ears of the many likely eavesdroppers around them. "So I wanted your opinion."

Shizuo felt stuck, unsure of what to do in this unfamiliar territory. He hadn't really considered it before, but it only seemed natural now that it was right in front of him. Kasuka was a good looking, even-tempered kid with a good head on his shoulders and fame and fortune at his feet. Of course this was bound to happen sooner or later. So why had he been so blind to this?

Part of it was, he thought, that he still thought of Kasuka as a kid, never really comprehending his transition to adulthood. It was a somewhat silly thought, considering that, in some respects, Kasuka had always been the more mature of the two of them. But he had always been there to protect his brother; had kept his distance, of course, for Kasuka's own good, but when things went south he was always there. Maybe this part of their relationship had blinded him to the fact that, a vast majority of the time, Kasuka was more than capable of taking care of himself and making his own decisions.

But there was another aspect to this shock that he felt, something of a more selfish nature. While Kasuka had always had the fame and the thousands of adoring fans that came along with it, they were both alone in their own respects. Shizuo could not connect because of his anger and power and Kasuka's seeming lack of emotion had always kept others at an arm's length. But they had always had each other, if they needed it, so they were never truly alone. Shizuo had resigned himself to this loneliness for so long that it seemed that he had assumed the same of his brother. Maybe he had even taken some sort of comfort knowing that there would be someone that could understand his deepest longings. This small, selfish comfort in Kasuka's own loneliness, that he was not alone in being some sort of unlovable person, seemed to have blinded him from the possibility that his relationship with Ruri would ever amount to much of anything.

This reflection made Shizuo feel sick to his stomach. Had he really relished in the fact that Kasuka was just as inept as himself in building any sort of deep connection with another person? It was a repulsive thought, something that only the most disgraceful could feel. Taking pleasure in another's suffering, that was something that monsters like Izaya delighted in. Was he really no different?

No. That wasn't the case. While, yes, maybe it had in some way eased his pain, he had never perpetuated his brother's isolation. He had never looked to stop Kasuka from finding something he would never have, had never taken action to preserve his seclusion like Izaya would have. And, now that it seemed that Kasuka had found his way out, Shizuo found that he did not feel resentment towards his brother, but rather there was a building excitement. In a way, Shizuo supposed he had always blamed himself for Kasuka's extremely reserved attitude, for his brother had always needed to counterbalance his own lack of restraint, and the fact that Kasuka had managed to overcome this obstacle that he had placed in front of him relieved some his guilt. The feelings of disgust in himself and the shock of the announcement started to subside, replaced by happiness and pride for his brother. He then knew how to respond, knew what Kasuka needed to hear, knew why his brother had come to him.

Shizuo smiled and chuckled, a genuine feeling of contentment escaping him. "My opinion, huh? Not that it's worth much, nor should it really matter, but I say go for it. If you make each other happy, then why the hell not? I mean, a good-looking girl like her isn't just going to wait around forever, so you gotta make your move sometime."

Kasuka finally tore his eyes from the window, looking Shizuo in the eyes. He let out a small laugh his own and a small smile formed on his lips, something that Shizuo had not seen in a long time.

"I suppose you are right," he said, the ever so slight sound of happiness leaking into his words. "Thanks brother. I—I needed that. You do like her though?"

Shizuo grinned. "She's seems quite nice. And someone who can actually make you smile like a giddy school girl is alright in my book."

"I am not doing any such thing," Kasuka replied quickly, but even he could not seem to contain the grin on his face.

"Uh-huh," Shizuo said. "But in all seriousness, what I think shouldn't stop you from doing something that you want to do."

"Well, I value your opinion," Kasuka said, much more relaxed than he been when Shizuo had arrived. "And, I guess I wanted to run it by you before I did anything. I know we don't see each other much, but, well, you've always been there. We were all the family we needed, and I wanted to check with you before I changed that."

Shizuo nodded. It seemed that Kasuka had felt similarly as he had and the fact that he had come to him with this so as to not disturb the balance they had found with each other only made him happier. It was a good feeling, one that he realized he hadn't truly felt for a long while, not like this at least.

His life had been slowly devolving into a mindless blur, long stretches of nothing interrupted by spurts of anger followed by disgust and regret. For the last year or so, his life had taken a turn for the boring, but instead of the bliss of a post-Izaya-Ikebukuro that he had expected to feel, all that it had done was leave him with more time to dwell on his inadequacies. Instead of building upon the relationships that he had acquired during the struggles caused by his archenemy, they had only fallen further apart. He was attempting to work on self-control, but the slow process only made him more frustrated with himself. He hadn't been happy for a long time, but the relative quiet in his life had made him blind to the fact, and it was only now that he noticed this. He had mistaken peace for joy and had let his own self-pity stop him from fighting to keep in touch with those he had considered to be friends.

Maybe he was someone unworthy of friends. Maybe all he could bring to those close to him was hurt and destruction. Maybe he was truly an unlovable monster like he had told himself all these years. But perhaps all he had to do was get out of his own way, to actually put the effort into these relationships instead of shutting them down for fear of rejection, or worse, hurting those he cared about. It would be risky, but maybe it was time to take that risk. Kasuka had. Perhaps it would go badly, perhaps his worst fears would only be confirmed. But if he continued the way he had been, it would only be a matter of time before he exploded, causing the same amount of danger and destruction as if he tried and failed. He was a ticking time bomb, always had been, and while he had entertained ways in defusing himself at various times in his life, the thought of failure or the undoubtable confirmation of his worst thoughts about himself had always kept him from fully pursuing it.

Maybe now was the time to risk it all.

"Well, I appreciate that," Shizuo said.

"Of course," Kasuka replied, his small half-smile still on his face. He then moved to stand. "I unfortunately have to get going; I've got a video conference in thirty minutes."

Shizuo stood as well, noting the darting down of several pairs of eyes in front of him as he did so. "No problem. Tom could use some help today anyhow."

The two exited the coffee shop onto the crowded street, Kasuka signaling for a cab. Shizuo could see people snapping pictures of his brother from inside the coffee shop out of the corner of his eye, so he casually stepped behind him, effectively blocking their view. He could hear some of them groan in anger and disappointment even from here on the street, bringing a smirk to his face.

"So, you think she'll say yes?" Shizuo said casually, eyeing his brother.

The smile faded from Kasuka's face, replaced by his normal expressionless face. "I hope so."

Shizuo laughed lightly. "Relax, I'm just teasing you. I'm sure she will."

Kasuka gave Shizuo a seemingly emotionless glance, but he could see the humor playing in the back of his brown eyes. A cab finally pulled up to the curb and Kasuka nodded to the driver. He turned back to Shizuo and said, "Thanks…for everything."

"Of course," Shizuo said, "Let me know how it goes! I'd rather not learn about it from a tabloid."

"They'll probably know the answer before I do," Kasuka said. He then reached out and hugged Shizuo, an unexpected gesture for certain, but one that Shizuo returned. "But I'll try my best."

Kasuka let go and headed for the cab, turning back as he crawled inside. "Take care of yourself, brother."

"I always do," Shizuo replied as Kasuka closed his door and the cab departed. Shizuo raised his hand in farewell and watched as the cab merged over and disappeared into the traffic of the busy Ikebukuro street. He turned and gave a playful glare at those in the coffee shop who were still staring at him, returning them to their drinks or conversations with their friends. He couldn't help but feel as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders; he had gone into this conversation fearing that his brother was in some sort of danger, but instead it had been quite the opposite. He couldn't be happier for his brother and it seemed to have caused some sort of chain reaction throughout himself. He was already debating about texting Celty and letting her know about the news and he could already picture what Tom would have to say on the situation. Maybe he would even call Slon and Vorona…

He was ready to move on in his life. Ready to stop feeling that he wasn't wanted, that he didn't deserve a chance to be happy. Ready to face the one fear he had yet to fully confront.

He was ready.

Shizuo stuck his hand into his pocket to grab his phone; it was likely that Tom had not yet left for the day and he could likely catch up with to help him with the day's collections. However, when he put his hand there, he discovered something that hadn't been there before; it felt like a piece of paper. He withdrew the scrap from his pocket and unfolded the single crease, a sense of foreboding building in his chest. He recognized the clear and precise form of the characters on the paper. Kasuka's handwriting. But what was written on the paper made no sense, save for a singular line.

 _Danger. Read only somewhere safe._

Shizuo's chest tightened and he quickly put the small scrap of paper back into his pocket, eyeing those around him. A couple people looked in his direction, though his blonde hair and reputation often drew eyes to him and none of these looked suspicious in the least. But he knew better.

All the happiness that he had been feeling just a moment earlier had seeped out of him, as were any of the thoughts he had just been entertaining. Something had indeed been wrong with Kasuka and the only way that he had felt safe telling Shizuo was by slipping a note into his pocket, likely while he had been pulling away from their hug. If Kasuka had to resort to that, instead of merely contacting him to meet somewhere more private, the situation must been pretty dire, where Kasuka felt he was being watched at all times, even in his own home.

Even as his mind started revolving around these ideas, Shizuo noticed that he was moving briskly through the streets, pushing people out of his way as he moved as quickly as possible without seeming suspicious. He needed to get back to his place and try to interpret the message immediately.

Trouble had once again come to Ikebukuro, and it was up to him to stop it.

* * *

 _Hey! Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has been reading so far; I've been really enjoying writing this and I hope that some of you are getting some enjoyment out of it as well! The set up chapters are done and the plot is going to start developing quickly, so I really appreciate all of you who have stuck through my ramblings up until this point._

 _I'm pretty new to this platform and this is the only story I have right now, so I would love to hear from any of you who are reading this! I'm pretty unfamiliar as to how things go here and I would appreciate any advice you have as to how to get more involved with the community. Also, if you have any comments or critiques in regards to the story so far, I would love to hear those as well. I'm still unsure as to what length of chapter is the most digest-able and if having longer chapters like this one are better because they feel more complete or if shorter ones like the two with Vorona so far are the way to go. Anyhow, I'm going to try to keep posting at least once every week like I have been (except for this last weekend where I got lazy...:/) unless someone has a suggestion on that as well! Like I said, I'm new here and I'm not quite sure what the norms are._

 _Anyhow, I just wanted get that out there and maybe talk to some of you lovely people! Thanks!_

 _P.S. If anyone would be interested in proofreading chapters before they are posted, let me know. My mind sometimes gets caught up when typing and then I make some stupid small mistakes that bug the heck out of me but usually don't catch on my read throughs._


	6. Chapter 6: Survival Instinct

Vorona woke with a start, her mind groggy and unfocused. She was blinded by hot white light streaming down on her and had to immediately close her eyes to shield herself from its rays. She tried to gather herself, take in what surroundings she could through her other senses while her mind raced to remember how she had gotten here. She was sitting, it seemed, in a chair, and her wrists were bound to its arms and her ankles to its legs. A slight wiggle in the chair revealed that it was bolted to the floor. The air was damp and cool and generally undisturbed; a basement perhaps? The smell of mildew only seemed to confirm that. But how had she gotten here? What was going on?

She tested herself against the bonds and found that they were well done; she wasn't going to escape them easily, if at all. What had happened? As she blinked her eyes to try to adjust to the harsh light, memories began to come up from the fog. The rain falling heavily through the darkness, the light in the corner room of skyscraper flipping on, the recoil of her rifle pushing against her shoulder, the dampened sound of her silenced shot rippling over the wind and plops of rain drops crashing into the roof. She had killed him, she had been so sure of it. It had been over.

But it had been a trap. Her instincts had been right, but she had disregarded them as paranoia built up from being on the run for so long, had ignored them because she so desperately wanted it to just be over. Her father had survived, somehow. The foggy memory of his face on the phone, telling her to stand down, began to crystalize and there was no doubt in her mind that it had indeed been him. She had gotten sloppy, had ignored the signs. They had gotten Slon and had given her no choice. She must have been hit with some sort of…

Slon.

The details of what had transpired on the roof started flooding through her, but one in particular felt like a knife directly to her gut. Her attacker had said Slon only had minutes to live. It was almost certainly past the allotted time frame. A lump in her throat began to form; had she gotten him killed? But Vorona forced the feeling of guilt and despair out of her head. It was pointless worry about something that could not be changed; she needed to focus on getting out of her current situation. She could feel her training taking over, the mind conditioned by countless years of combat pushing everything else to the side, analyzing her options.

Vorona tested her bonds once more, this time closely noting their flexibility and material. They were taut, allowing for very little movement and felt like some sort of plastic or synthetic material. It allowed less movement than rope, but it lacked the elasticity that a well-tied knot could provide. If she could just get through the tight restriction, the band wouldn't be able to adapt and she would be free. However, getting over the initial barrier would be difficult. She could barely move her arms, the restraints were so tight, so creating more room through constant movement was near impossible.

It seemed though, that her captors had overlooked something. While her arms and legs were bound, her torso and head remained free. There was a knife that she kept hidden on the underside of her forearm, woven into a secret pocket there. Perhaps her captors had been as sloppy in the search of her person as they had been in tying her up.

Blinking several times but still finding the light mostly intolerable, Vorona looked to her arm through squinted eyes. It appeared that they had left her dressed in the black undersuit she had been wearing on the rooftop, only have removed the overcoat. She leaned over to her right arm and, feeling the material there with her face, she could tell that that the small pocket knife was still there. Now she just needed to get it to her hand.

The knife was designed to be fired from her wrist, a pull cord on her bicep activating the device that would open the blade and launch it as a projectile. However, if she used this, the knife would likely just embed itself into her hand or wrist or go soaring across the room if it missed. Maybe she could rip through the material of her shirt with her teeth and then grab the knife with her mouth? However, a quick test of this theory soon proved that it wasn't an option either; the black shirt proved to be too pliable.

 _Dammit,_ Vorona thought to herself. She would just have to chance pulling the rip cord for the knife; there wasn't any other option and she didn't want to wait around for her father to eventually show up. If that happened, she was dead anyhow.

Taking in a deep breath, Vorona braced for the potential pain as she grabbed the pull cord ring with her teeth. She tried to angle her arm so that it had the best chance of catching the knife. If it missed her wrist and flew across the room, it would be over. Closing her eyes, she calmed her mind, silencing any doubts about what she was about to attempt, put aside the anxiety of the pain that was to come.

Exhale.

Pull.

The pain from her wrist came almost instantly and, jolting her system and nearly causing a strangled yell to emit from her. However, she choked it back and opened her eyes, daring to observe the damage. Her hand and wrist were bleeding profusely, the red liquid seeping from her and soaking into the wood of the chair's arm, soon spilling over and splattering to the concrete below. A slight movement of her wrist only sent another shock of pain through her system. The knife had embedded itself into the heel of her hand, ripping through tendons, veins and arteries and rendering the hand nearly useless. Her fingers were alive with pain but didn't respond to her; it appeared she had down some serious damage.

But she pushed those thoughts aside, noting them but not wasting time to lament over it. She was bleeding more heavily than she had anticipated and she needed to move quickly. Vorona leaned forward once again, straining a bit against the contortion. She would be able to get the knife, but it would be at the very edge of her reach. Would she have enough leverage to pull it free? She would have to, there wasn't another option.

As her face got close to her wrist, Vorona could see that the knife had sliced all the way up her forearm; she had overcompensated her positioning so that the weapon wouldn't miss and while it had worked, she might have killed herself anyhow. Another stab of pain went up through her arm as she grabbed the handle with her teeth, the taste of steel and wood mixing with the iron taste of her blood. Vorona could feel herself getting a little lightheaded already, the constant pain and loss of blood taking its toll. Bracing herself for another bought of agony, she sunk all of her concentration on keeping the knife in her mouth as she pulled it free.

And then she was ripping her head backwards, barely aware of her actions as her hand exploded in stinging pangs. Another scream threatened to burst forth, but she had just enough willpower to quell it. Vorona's mind was swimming, the throbbing feedback that had started in her hand but had climbed up her entire arm and spread throughout her body threatened to overtake her. Tears welled at her eyes and cries collected in her throat, all aching for release, as if that would somehow make the pain go away. But Vorona kept it all held at bay, fought her way through the waves of pain to concentrate on getting the knife to her uninjured hand. Years of training, of built up survival instinct, took over, finding a way past the limitations of her body. She wasn't going to die here, she refused. She was a survivor, a fighter. She had always looked to test her limits, but only because she knew that she couldn't fail. She wouldn't fail, she wouldn't allow herself to. It was this drive that allowed her to focus.

Vorona lowered the knife to her left hand, the weapon trembling in her lips. She couldn't quite reach it to her fingers, there would have to be a brief moment where the knife would have to travel through open air between her mouth and her grasp. However, Vorona hardly gave it a thought, trusting her reflexes and knowing that dwelling on it would only make the task more difficult. She let go, her heart thudding against her chest, her stomach flipping over as the knife fell. Metal and wood contacted skin and she clasped as quickly as she could. Her gut lurched as the knife danced along her extended and rapidly closing fingers. But the angle had been too awkward, the drop too short for her to react in time. The handle of the knife bounced from her palm, tumbling off as gravity dragged it towards the ground. It seemed to fall in slow motion, her fingers grasping desperately at the blade as it sliced past them. The easiest part of the whole ordeal, and yet she could only watch as her only hope clattered to the concrete.

The sick feeling of failure washed over Vorona, her eyes glued to the knife that was now beyond her grasp. It mixed with waves of pain, making her feel nauseous and yet somehow quite hollow inside. Her mind went blank, overrun with the multitude of stimuli. She couldn't even muster the energy to ponder how she had failed, for it seemed incomprehensible even if she didn't have to fight against the near overwhelming distraction of the pain. Now, more than ever, the aching of emotion in her throat threatened to release, but it seemed that she was somehow incapable of letting that happen. Even when she was past the point of control, her body had been so conditioned over the years to hold it all in that it continued to do so, working on some sort of autopilot. No tears fell, no cries of anger, or pain, or frustration came from her lips. Vorona just sat there in silence, unmoving, staring at the bloodied knife on the floor.

She wasn't sure how much time passed, for time had become an entirely foreign entity as she sat there, but not enough had gone by that she had lost consciousness. Her senses were numbed, but she still heard the door opening up behind her, followed by heavy, uncoordinated footsteps. Vorona felt herself tense, sensing the movement of someone coming up behind her. Then he was in front of her, bald and dressed in a simple jacket and jeans, saying words that her slow mind could not quite comprehend. He took out a knife and then slid it under her right wrist restraint, ripping up and snapping the band.

It was an odd experience, what happened next. It was almost as if her body was acting on its own, separate from her thoughts. Vorona watched as her bleeding hand instantly went to the man's throat, delivering a quick punch that caused him to reel back slightly. He gagged, his eyes filled with shock, but before he could do anything else, Vorona had already grabbed his jacket and was dragging him down towards her, numb fingers working despite her wounds. The bald man came down roughly, still trying to drag some sort of air into his collapsed windpipe and she saw herself take him by the back of the head and thrust his face down into the blood-soaked arm of the chair. She slammed it down once, twice, three times, feeling bone and cartilage give way. The gagging noise no longer came from the bald man and she found herself instantly going to the knife that had fallen from his grip onto the chair next to her leg. Somehow, just as it had grabbed the man's jacket, her wounded hand somehow grasped the knife's handle and cut free her uninjured arm. All of this seemed to be going on without any input from Vorona, her thoughts were a haze, barely keeping up with the events swirling around her, yet along being in control of them.

Transferring the knife to her now free left hand, she quickly cut her ankles restraints. As she did so, Vorona sensed another person step into the doorway, likely alerted by the sounds of struggle. It wasn't until the knife had embedded itself into the neck of woman that had just entered that Vorona realized that she had thrown it. The other woman collapsed almost instantly, her hands flailing briefly to her neck, dropping the pistol in the process. Vorona saw herself hurry forward and scoop up the weapon, not even giving the woman a second glance.

She was at the door when a third person appeared, nearly running her over, obviously not expecting someone to be exiting the room. He fell sideways off her though, the collision mostly avoided, two pistol rounds punching through his chest and sending him sprawling to the floor next to his fallen comrade. A third round embedded into his skull as Vorona pulled the trigger again before moving down the dark hallway beyond the room.

As she sprinted down the hall, the door opened at the end of it, two more men holding rifles coming through, bewildered looks on their faces. Vorona's hand raised, bringing the pistol to bear, unleashing three rounds before either even had a chance to raise their own weapons. The first missed, ricocheting off the metal door behind them. The second blasted through a kneecap, and the third through a skull. The man who had been shot in the knee stumbled to the ground, his yells of pain sounding distant and otherworldly. Vorona pushed forward, loosing a fourth bullet that put the man out of his misery. She had no idea where she was going, nor did it seem that she really cared. Everything was moving much too quickly…

She was nearly upon the bodies of the two men she had just killed when the doors slammed open once again. Vorona fired once, the bullet ripping through side of the man who had just come through. She pulled the trigger again, still charging forward. A metallic click told her that she had lost count of her shots. Her opponent, still stumbling backwards, raised his pistol. Vorona vaguely registered the pain rippling from her right shoulder but it did not stop her. The barrel of the pistol flashed again, but it seemed that it had missed. A mistake, one that her opponent would pay dearly for. She was on top of him, unleashing her left fist into his face. The man fired again, the gunshot echoing in her ears. But the shot had went wide, and he wouldn't get another chance. She brought her knee up into his gut, grabbed him with her good arm and flipped him onto his back. He coughed in agony and she pinned him to the floor, relieving him of his weapon. Vorona foggily recognized the fear in this man's face as she leveled the pistol at his head. Begs of mercy fell from his trembling lips, but the were so far away. It was all so hazy, so out of her control. Vorona felt herself pull the trigger, the recoil of the weapon balanced in her good hand still sending shivers of pain throughout her body.

 _Keep moving. Survive. Kill. So that you can live._

She got to her feet, took in her surroundings. She was in a stairwell, the steps only going up. Was she in a basement or on the ground floor? Instinct told her the former, somehow, that she needed to climb up if she were to escape. She needed to elevate above what had just happened here. Leave it behind. Move on. Survive. All these thoughts passed by sluggishly, and she found that her body was already ascending the stairs by the time she fully thought them through.

Vorona reached a landing, this time taking time to register the floor number. Basement level four. Four more flights. She was moving again, legs pushing herself up the stairs, right arm hanging loosely at her side, near useless. Her arm. It was still bleeding freely and the fresh wound in her shoulder was not helping the situation. Her actions were still mostly working on pure reaction and instinct, but she felt herself slowly coming back. The pain was becoming more acute, the sounds of her footsteps against concrete becoming closer. Adrenaline was pumping through her, combating the hazy lightheadedness for control. She vaguely noted that her vision was blurring, knew that her time was limited.

Then, the ground floor. Vorona pushed through the door, eyed the hallway lit by fluorescent ceiling bulbs beyond. It was blank, white walls and dull tile and grey doors. But at the end of it, glass doors radiating what could only be the light of the sun. An exit. Her way out.

Vorona pushed herself forward, legs powering against the fatigue that had suddenly set upon them. Her strength was sapping. Even with the adrenaline pumping through her veins, too much of it was spilling out of her, soaking into her shirt or dripping to the floor. Her eyes bounced from door to door as she ran heavily past them, expecting any of them to fly open at any moment. The distance between her and the exit was shortening, but slowly. Too slowly. She was slipping again into the haze, the whites and greys all blending together. She shook her head, but this only seemed to make things worse. Her world was sent spinning, a blender of empty nothing. But at its center, there was the pure light of the sun, the world beyond. She just had to reach it. Somehow, if she could get there, she would be alright. It didn't make any logical sense, not to the very small part of her mind that was still functioning on that level. She would bleed out just the same, whether she was trapped in this prison or outside of it. But her mind refused to comprehend that. She kept running. Her father would not have her. She would break free.

She would survive.

No.

Not just survive.

Live.

She could no longer feel her legs, could no longer really sense much of anything. But she was moving forward, years of survival instinct carrying her forward. The light was getting larger, brighter, and reds and oranges and browns began to filter in. Almost there.

Contact. Brief, before the glass gave way under her blind charge. For moment, she was airborne, free of gravity. Shards of glass reflected the light, the reds and golds of fall leaves, as they too flew around her. She could taste the cool air, the freshness of a September frost filing her lungs, cycling out the stale air of her prison.

But it was only a moment. Time eked forward, gravity grabbing hold. The air was forced from her lungs as she hit the ground, the world of red and orange and gold giving way to black, the glass ripping into her. Everything was slipping away quickly. Yet somehow, words penetrated this, managed to stick out against everything else that was fading. There was something about the voice that broke through it all, made it clear when everything else was being sucked away. It was smooth, confident, assured, charismatic, but so very cold.

"Sloppy," it said, "The instinct, the skill, the raw power, is all there. But instead of honing it to a point, you have allowed it to dull. You lack drive, conviction, motivation. You are aimless. A deadly arrow misfired by a less than competent archer. What you could have been, had your father not mishandled you so…poorly. A shame. There still may be hope for you, and I shall try my best, yet I fear that you may be better used a tool for saving someone else from your fate. What you just demonstrated has answered all my questions and proved what you father told me about you. You will not die, Vorona, not yet. I have use of you. But for now—sleep."

And then, it was over, and Vorona slipped fully into the darkness.


	7. Chapter 7: A Discussion with Death

Shadowy figures crept through her consciousness, figures that she should know, whose identity was on the tip of her tongue but whom she could never quite recognize. They would fade in, slipping by her, before fading away again, meshing with the surrounding void. It was frustrating despair, to understand that she should know who these people were, but in the end coming up short as they left her forever. An endless stream of shadows. Unknowns kept at an arm's length.

But then Vorona was ripped from the constant parade of specters. A gasp emitted from her lips as she was removed forcefully from her dream, the needle that had done the deed sliding out of her arm. She was, once again, bathed in blinding tungsten light directed into her eyes. Once again, she could taste the stale taste of underground air. Once again, she was seated in a chair. However, this time, she was not restrained. This time, she could make out a table before her. This time, she could sense the presence of another person seated across from her, the person who had removed her from her nightmare. Or perhaps placed her in it in the first place. She could not make out who it was; they were shrouded in the darkness that sat outside the high beams of the angled overhead fixture.

"I would highly recommend not attempting to escape again," the man seated across from her said in the same chillingly smooth voice that had spoken to her before she had blacked out. She tried to place the accent, to find any way of gaining an advantage over this man, but it seemed devoid of any describable cultural influence. It just was. "As you can see, I have left you unrestrained, for we are on the same side. It was your father's mistake to treat you like a beast needing to be chained and I have made him see the error of his ways."

Vorona felt a jolt at the mention of her father. She opened her mouth to speak, to demand where she could find Drakon and finish what she started, but no words came forth. Her throat felt dry and cracked and she had to swallow the words back.

"Additionally," the man continued, "You are in no condition to attempt another escape, and even one such as I cannot stop someone who so constantly tests their limits against death. So, given those facts, I hope that you will allow me to speak my piece, and we can decide where to go from there. Does that sound agreeable?"

Vorona took in the man's words, analyzing them carefully, mulling them over in a tired mind just starting to reboot. However, only one thing truly stuck out in her mind, a single question that outweighed everything else.

"Where is he?" she rasped out, the words burning on their way out.

She could almost sense the raised eyebrow jutting out from the man sitting across from her, a cool smile curling across his lips.

"He?" he said, "And which 'he' might you be speaking of? Of your companion, perhaps? No, no, no. That's not how your mind works. Not how our minds work."

He tossed his words playfully at her, but they sliced through her like well-aimed strikes. The urge to reach across the table and land several blows herself spiked into her mind, but she held back. It would be a mistake, she could tell, and she had already made enough of those. He had been right though, the shadowy man with the voice she could not place. She hadn't thought of Slon first. His wellbeing hadn't even come to mind until this man had mentioned it.

"No, you must be talking about your father," the man continued. "Well, I see no reason to hold this information from you. He is quite close, observing this conversation from the next room." She could hear a movement from across the table, a shifting of the chair along the concrete floor. She could vaguely make out the silhouette of the man waving to the glass behind him and he said, "Aren't you, my friend? Enjoying it so far? I must say, you've done quite a number on her. Her obsession with you is unhealthy…for the both of you."

He was right there. In the next room. All she had to do was…

She could hear the man turn back to her, could almost picture his nasty smile growing wider. "You both can settle your differences later, though. You can wait, can't you, my dear?"

The impulse to punch this man in the face only grew greater with every word he said, but Vorona managed to push it down. The memories of what had happened with the guards were slowly seeping back in, memories of what happened when she let herself go. She needed to control herself, for now. Fighting wouldn't get her what she wanted. Right now, knowledge would be her most valuable weapon, and she needed to acquire more of it. And to do that, she needed to play along with this man. It was obvious that he felt that he held all the chips in this game, and she could take advantage of his overconfidence to slowly turn the tables.

"Fine," Vorona said, her voice still scratchy and unnatural. "But don't call me that again."

Vorona could see the silhouette wave its hand and the silky voice said, "Of course. My mistake. Now, we can speak to situation at hand. Information shall be given, questions shall be answered, and once they have, I hope that you will see the benefits of aiding me in my endeavors."

"So, as I'm sure you must have realized even that evening on the rooftop, your attempt on your father's life was a set-up. One that was organized by yours truly. You might be curious as to how you could have missed the tell-tale signs, how you failed to recognize that you were duped until it was too late?" The man paused, seemingly for his own sense of drama. Vorona filed the fact away for later.

"The reason being," the man continued, "Was that it was not decided to be a trap until that very evening, nor was anything changed from the original plan, except for one key variable. You see, I knew that in order to catch you, I could not tip my hand in the slightest. Your skill, your natural instincts, and what I could only assume would be an ever-growing paranoia, would make any sort of set up impossible. Any planted information, any adjusted schedule, any misplaced detail would set off your alarms and you would run off, disappear. So, therefore, the only way to catch you was to let things take their natural course and wait for you to eventually catch up with your father. It would only be a matter of time, if what your father had told me about you was true, and I merely had to bide my time. The only problem with this plan of action, from the outside looking in, would be that, in taking this passive stance, I would be putting your father in considerable danger. In fact, I was basically signing his death warrant, for I would not know when you were to strike, nor would I know until you showed yourself. A problem, seemingly, because you would only show yourself in the form of your father's corpse. Given that I still needed your father alive almost as much as I needed you, it would appear that I was in a lose-lose situation, no?"

Vorona listened to the man ramble, taking in every word carefully. He spoke with what some might take as flattery when he spoke of her skill, but he stated it more as fact, the sweetness in his compliments of her skills only surface level, only as part of his normal charismatic tone. He wasn't attempting to charm her (and she had a feeling that he knew that such a tactic would be wholly fruitless), nor was he attempting to insult her with irony. What he was saying was merely his thoughts on the matter, on what he saw as true. But there was a confidence behind those words, a sense of infallibility. Not only did he believe what he said, but there was no doubt in his mind that he was correct.

The man waited, his invisible smile that she was sure was plastered on his face growing every moment. He wanted her to answer his seemingly rhetorical question, and he wanted a very specific answer. Fighting against it would perhaps earn her a win here, but would likely hurt her eventually. So Vorona gave him what he was looking for, fed more into the man's ego.

"So it would seem," she said, "And yet you still managed. How?"

"How indeed," the man said, likely grinning grotesquely ear to ear. "The beginning of the answer, I think, you can find in your time in Japan."

He paused again, seemingly knowing that this had caught her off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been monitoring the situation in Ikebukuro for some time now, as I tend to monitor all such situations. The neighborhood seems to have been experiencing a high number of, let's say, strange occurrences over the last several years, even for an area such as that. Some things that some might consider…supernatural. Headless riders, demon blades capable of enslaving large populations to its will, blonde bartenders with super human strength. I'm certain that you were well exposed to these abnormalities during your time there, for my research puts you right in the middle of several situations involving them. And so your eyes were opened to a world hidden to or ignored by most. A world of demons and monsters, of non-human entities possessing abilities that most would consider impossible."

The man paused again, and Vorona found herself unwillingly clutching onto every word he said. She could sense where this was leading and found herself begging for clear answers to her questions.

"And then, it should come of little surprise to you, I hope, that I too am part of this world. I too am a being of extraordinary strength, possessing powers that no human could ever have. And it is these powers that allowed me shift events to my favor. I admit, given what you had experienced in Japan and what you are, it was still a slight risk to assume that you would not account for someone such as I being a possibility, but I seemed correct in guessing that you assumed that you stood apart from that supernatural world once you left Ikebukuro."

"Drakon tells me that you are quite well read," the man said, changing tracks slightly. "Tell me, how well do you know Japanese religions and mythology?"

Vorona's eyes strained against the light, tried to peer through the darkness at the man, or maybe not, across from her. Was what he was saying true? Could it be? Vorona tried to find some way around it, but his voice spoke as confidently and truthfully as it ever had and what she had seen in Ikebukuro…

"Not too well," Vorona said carefully. Was she perhaps being played? The man seemed to know about the strange things that had occurred during her time in Japan, so maybe he was trying to play off her concerns and uncertainties that surrounded those events? Either way, if he was telling the truth or not, he was certainly succeeding in putting her on the defensive. He seemed to know just the right things to say. Knew details that she wasn't comfortable with anyone knowing. Either way, she was in a bad situation.

"Hmmm," the man said, "But some though? Perhaps you happened across a term in your reading, a term for a being who was said to have many powers, depending on the source. Some said the beings would possess people and cause them to commit suicide. Other saw them as spirits who helped guide souls after they had passed on, leading them to the next life. There are depictions of them as evil demons, as good deities, or just neutral forces of nature carrying out their duties. But regardless of your source, there is one thing that these beings are all associated with, and it is in this aspect that all those myths and legends are closest to fact. The aspect I am speaking of, of course, is their relation to Death. The term that I am speaking of, the one that ironically eludes you, is for a particular type of Japanese god. A god of death."

The word flashed through her mind, its origins unknown. Perhaps a memory from a yellowed page, but it seemed to come from within her very soul.

"Shinigami," she breathed, the word escaping her lips.

A laugh bounced around the walls of the small interrogation room, lacking any sort of warmth or humor, a laugh that was both human and yet somehow very much something else. The… _thing_ seated across from her was at its epicenter, the source of mind-bending sound. And then he stopped and she heard the sliding of the chair, saw his vague form get up and start walking towards her. He stepped around the table and into the light, and for the first time, Vorona could finally see the face of the man who had just declared himself a death god.

And what she saw, she even admitted for a moment, surprised her. His figure was slender, but not weakly so; she could tell the way that he carried himself, the way his legs pushed off the concrete, the way his arms moved at his sides, that he was certainly as strong as she was, if not more so. His face perfectly matched his voice; handsome, beautiful even, no part of it lacking any sort of grace or charisma. Perfectly sculpted nose and cheekbones set over lips that were not wide and exaggerated as she had been imagining, but thin and welcoming. Everything was symmetrical, without a single blemish to ruin the image. His black hair he wore slightly long, in a disheveled way that, upon very first analysis did not match the perfection of the face. However, it was not unattractive, and in fact had quite the opposite effect. What initially appeared to be unruly strands only seemed to fall perfectly across themselves, all of them forming an overall look that not only complimented his visage, but supplemented it. It was a designed, engineered chaos. But what truly struck her was his eyes, bright and pleasant, violet irises like her own exuding allure and wonder. And yet, just like his voice, she could glimpse the shadows, the cold, that lay just beneath.

There was one adjective, however, that stuck out amongst the rest, one that came in conclusion of her analysis of her captor.

Dangerous.

The man, or god, or whatever he was, leaned down so that he was face to face with Vorona, his perfect violet eyes meeting her own. While he did not have a hideously large smile across his face, his lips did turn ever so slightly in the upward direction. Now would be the perfect time to strike, to land a blow to his throat and then finish him. But her urge to strike him had disappeared, the reason it had escaping her. In fact, she found herself unable to move at all as the man fixated his gaze on her own.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "Quite right. I am Kurai, and I am a Shinigami."

((And so you all get to meet Vorona's newest 'friend'! I've obviously taken some liberties by adding a new kind of supernatural being to Durarara's world, but in what will hopefully be an interesting and grounded addition. He's pretty much the only major original character that will be showing up, but I felt it was an interesting way to explore more of Vorona's character in a way not really possible with other characters, as well as adding an interesting twist.

Anyhow, I felt the need to address this since this is by and large the biggest leap from 'canon' or what have you, that you will see in this story, but I hope it will be in a way that merely enhances the world rather than detracts from it. Thank you all again for reading!))


	8. Chapter 8: Past Puzzles

Shizuo slipped through the door of his apartment, closing the door carefully behind him and making sure to turn the deadlock clockwise, feeling slightly comforted by the clicking sound as it snapped into place. He stepped quickly across the hardwood floor, the clacks of his footsteps echoing his anxiety. Hopefully, whoever was likely keeping tabs on his brother hadn't noticed the small exchange between them. The urge to call Kasuka welled up in him again, but he pushed it down. It had likely been a great risk for them to even meet like they had, and a call after they had just met would seem, at the very least, a bit suspicious. For now, the note would have to be enough.

Stepping into his sparse bedroom, Shizuo seated himself at his desk, turned on the old lamp that sat atop it, and drew out the note. He frowned as he took in its contents. The first line, which he had read earlier, was clear and precise, written in his brother's careful and artful hand. The two lines that followed were written in the same hand, but their contents made no sense whatsoever. What Kasuka had written was a bunch of gibberish, the characters not amounting to anything.

 _What the hell is this all about?_ Shizuo thought, scanning over it again, unsure if he had missed something.

He turned the note over; maybe there was more on the back? But the opposite side was completely blank, not a single black mark on it. Turning the note back over, he looked over what Kasuka had written with a growing sense of confusion and frustration. Why make such an effort to get him something that didn't make any sense at all? Was it in some sort of code or something? But how was he supposed to figure out—

A vague memory flashed through his head. They had been young; he couldn't have been older than eight. It had been silly, something they'd seen on TV or read somewhere, but they had thought it incredibly interesting. It'd been some sort of replacement code, quite simple if one knew the rules or had the cipher. But they'd been enthralled with the idea of being able to speak a language that only they could understand, and they'd pass messages back and forth like they were some sort of spies or something. Even then, it seemed like other people didn't quite understand them to begin with, so why not take it to the extreme. It had been a short phase in their lives, one that Shizuo had forgotten entirely until this moment. Could Kasuka have used the same code that they had developed as children?

But there was only one problem, and quite a substantial one at that. Even if that was what Kasuka had done, there was no way Shizuo could recall what exactly the code had been.

 _Dammit,_ Shizuo thought, _you couldn't have thought that I would remember that?_

Shizuo looked at the note, studying over the characters, hoping that something would pop back into his memory. But they looked just as messy and confusing as they had before, nothing sticking out to him, nothing jogging his old memories. Shizuo let out a grunt of frustration and stood up from the desk, racking his brain for anything regarding the silly language. He doubted he had any of their messages from then; he hardly kept anything, as evidenced by his barely furnished living space, let alone scrawled messages from his childhood.

 _But,_ he thought, an idea coming to him, _they might have something from then._

He looked over the note once more, wishing that something would come to him. When was the last time they had even spoken? It had been years, but how many exactly, he could not account. In fact, he couldn't even place what their last conversation had been, or even when he had seen them last. Sighing, knowing that this was likely his best way of deciphering the message, and knowing that Kasuka was counting on him, Shizuo went to his living room to find the phone book. He flipped through the pages, eventually finding the name _Heiwajima, Kichirou_ and the number next to it. He flipped his phone open and started to punch in the numbers printed on the page. After dialing the final one, he hesitated, his finger hovering over the call button.

 _It would be so much easier if I could just remember the damn code,_ Shizuo mused.

But that didn't seem to be happening any time soon, and if his parents didn't actually have any of their old messages saved, then he would have to try and figure out a different way of decoding Kasuka's message. Time was not on his side, so it was best to just get this over with as quickly as possible.

His thumb pressed down on the call button and he took a deep breath. The electronic ringing buzzed once, then twice, and he had half a mind to just hang-up before someone picked up. However, a voice came across the line and it was too late.

"Hello?"

It was the soft, bright tone of his mother. For a moment, he sat frozen. It was as he remembered it; calm and understanding and plain, all there even over the phone. And yet, it was different, somehow, like it was a bit more cracked with age and wisdom. The same, but not.

"Umm…hello? Is anyone there?"

Shizuo took in another breath and forced his mouth open. "Um…hello, Mother. It's me."

There was a pause over the line.

"Shizuo?"

He breathed out. "Yes, it's me. Uh…"

"Is something wrong? Something with you or Kasuka or…?"

"Uh, no, no. We're fine."

"Oh."

Another pause.

"Well that's a relief," his mother said. "So…?"

The question was left unsaid, but neither of them needed to hear it aloud. _So, if no one is dying, why are you calling?_

Shizuo paused, unsure of what exactly to say. He didn't want to worry her, and he didn't think he could really explain it even if he wanted to. As far as he knew, his parents knew nothing about the crazy happenings in Ikebukuro, at least in relation to him. Kasuka might have mentioned some of the things that had happened to him, as, given his celebrity status, some of the dangers he had been put in had appeared in tabloids and such. But even if he had, Kasuka had likely left out the most bizarre or unbelievable portions. Like Shizuo, the younger Heiwajima brother probably didn't want to worry his parents.

He'd have to make something up then. Try to find some plausible reason for wanting her to look for some silly writing he had written when he was eight.

"Well, uh, I was wondering if you had kept any of those coded messages Kasuka and I wrote when we were kids. I—uh—I'm trying to come up with a gift for him."

Shizuo shook his head, sure that his explanation would prompt some questioning from his mother.

"A gift? What for? His birthday isn't for months."

"Uh…yeah, well, you know. I want to get an early start on it."

"Mhmm," his mother said. She sounded a bit dubious, but after a moment she said, "Well, I may have a couple of them lying around somewhere. When do you need them by?"

"Er…would you mind looking now? I just…can't really do anything without them."

"I suppose so. I'm not doing much at the moment anyhow."

"Thanks."

He could hear her moving through the house, probably heading upstairs to the spare room where she kept such things. Or at least, that's where she had used to keep them. Who knows…he hadn't been in the house in almost ten years. It could be completely different now. The same, but not, just like his mother's voice.

"So," his mother said, talking over the sounds of her digging through boxes, "Must be an important gift if it caused you to call."

"You could say that."

"Still smoking?"

Shizuo could sense the barb was not fully intentional, like his mother was caught between feelings of confusion, hurt, and anger and wasn't sure how which one she should express first, or if she could express them at all. She was sending out feelers, trying to figure out why, after all these years, he had called about something as simple as grade-school projects. It was a very motherly thing to say, equal parts accusation and concern, and was likely something that she felt she could fall back on. Something to keep the conversation going, but also a slight jab to show that his lack of contact over the last few years had not gone unnoted.

"Yep."

He didn't know what else to say to that.

There was a slight _hrmph_ on the other side of the line before she said, "You know those things are bad for you. Have you seen the studies? They'll take years off your life."

 _So will constantly fighting gang members and supernatural beings,_ he thought to himself, the irony of a cigarette being the thing that would finally take down what many saw as the invincible Shizuo Heiwajima not lost on him. But she knew nothing of that…in fact, he wasn't sure if she knew anything about his life. Perhaps Kasuka had told her a couple things, but even his brother barely knew what was going on with him.

And that was probably for the best.

"I may have seen one or two," Shizuo said, hoping that she might drop the subject.

"Well, I suppose that's your decision then," his mother replied, still shuffling through boxes. "So, what are you doing for work? You're still in Ikebukuro, correct?"

"Yeah, I am," Shizuo replied, "Working with Tom Tanaka, collection agency. You remember Tom, right?"

"Of course I do. Good kid, smart. But collection agency? What exactly do you mean by that? Like tax fraud and stuff?"

"Uh…yeah, kind of."

"Do you like it?"

"Keeps the lights on."

"That's important." His mother paused, both in her speech and her digging.

"Did you find it?" Shizuo asked, suddenly hopeful.

"I—no, not what you were looking for," she replied. "Just…well, just some other old things. Anyhow, are you keeping better contact with Kasuka then?"

"A little, yeah. Just saw him today, actually."

"Oh really? How is he doing?"

"Not bad. Just the normal life of a movie star."

His mother chuckled. "I never would have thought it. He was always so quiet and reserved."

 _Not always…not until I made him that way…_

"But he's quite good at it," she continued, "He's definitely one of the lucky ones, to find his purpose so young. He makes sure to call at least every month or so."

Shizuo took the strike in stride. He had known there were going to be at least a couple directed his way, and most of them were likely well deserved. But her words before those struck him as well. It was true; Kasuka had certainly seemed to find his niche in this world.

"Well, at least, he had been doing that," his mother said, "We haven't heard from him since May."

"Really?"

"Yes…I assumed it was because he was busy with work and such though…why, did he seem-?"

"No, no," Shizuo said quickly, "Like I said, he seemed fine today. Hence why I thought it curious. But I'm sure it's like you said, he's just busy with work."

"Right, of course," his mother said, "It's just, a parent's worry never quite leaves you, I suppose."

A lull came over the conversation, a silence of two people who had not spoken for years and were unsure of what to say next extending between them. Shizuo racked his brain for something to say to his mother, something that could perhaps explain his exodus, at least in some way. He could never tell her the truth, could never voice why the distance had grown. The truth would only hurt both he and his parents.

"Oh, I think I found what you were looking for."

His mother's voice broke the silence, and hope ballooned in Shizuo. "Really? Great, that's…great. Ummm…so could you perhaps just take pictures and send them to me? I don't really need the actual things, just…"

He trailed unsure of what he could really say that would make much sense.

But his mother either ignored it or didn't notice and said, "Of course. I'll send them soon."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"Always here to help."

Shizuo wasn't sure if this was just turn of phrase or a plead for something more, but he couldn't really dwell on it right now. There were more time-sensitive things to take care of right now. Even if there wasn't, and even if his mother really was hurt by his decision to distance himself from them, he didn't think he could do anything about it. It wasn't their fault; they merely acted like anyone else would. They had tried their best given the circumstances, but it just was never going to work out. The image of the fear in his parents' eyes when he had lost his temper and lifted a refrigerator in retaliation to his brother was something that would always be burned into his conscience. It was that look, and the subsequent ones as time went on as his temper grew worse, that had slowly eaten away at him, had confirmed what he had always feared. If even his parents feared him, were unable to conceal their realization of what a danger he truly was, then he really was a monster. And while he could not blame his parents for acting like any person would, it was also too painful to face them, to know that he scared them, to know what they really thought of him. And it was likely painful for them as well, to not understand their son, to not know what the right answer. So it was best to just keep this distance…

"Got it. Thanks again. Bye."

"Good-bye, Shizuo. Take care of yourself."

And with that, the line was cut and Shizuo was left alone in his sparse living room, the afternoon light spilling in from the lone window. He sat there on the sofa, feeling drained. She knew he wouldn't call, and perhaps she understood why. He hoped she did, hoped that she didn't blame herself for what their relationship had become. But he doubted that was true, and there was nothing he could do about it. Anything he would do would only make things worse.

His phone vibrated in his hand, once, twice, then a third time. His mother had sent him three pictures of different pieces of paper, each containing conversations between himself and Kasuka in their made-up language. She had kept them, after all of these years, perhaps as memories of happier, less confusing times. The thought caused a lump to form in his throat, but he swallowed and mentally shook himself. He had something, now, and maybe he could use what he had to figure out what their code had been. Shizuo knew that it had to be something simple, and he should be able to find patterns within the numerous conversations and piece together what exactly their code had been.

It was interesting to see these old pieces of paper. Kasuka's handwriting was already gentle and calm, the strokes of his pen more like the brush of an expert artist. This contrasted heavily with Shizuo's own, which had not improved much over time. His quick, clumsy characters were at times barely legible, as if the author could not get them onto the page fast enough. The comparison between them was stark, and brought back memories of when they were inseparable. How different things were now, and yet, so similar. The same, but not.

Now armed with many examples of the coded language, Shizuo set to work, trying to decipher the secret conversations of his younger self. At first, it was a slow going, the various symbols on the page not taking on much of a meaning, much like Kasuka's note. Frustration began to build again, but he forced it from his mind. He needed to figure this out, one way or another. Kasuka needed him, and he wasn't about to let his brother down. After some time musing over the symbols, trying out several strategies through trial and error, he started to figure out the patterns of their language. Soon, he thought he had made a solid breakthrough, and memories began to be drudged up from who-knew-where. Pieces started to fall into place more easily and by evening he felt that he had managed to get a working idea of the language he and his brother had invented all those years ago.

Excitement burned in him as he pushed his theories to the final test; Kasuka's note. As he translated each symbol, his brother's message started to take shape. Shizuo could hardly push through the final two symbols, his eagerness to see what Kasuka had sent him nearly getting to him. And, as he looked at the decoded message, he felt that while he had obtained one answer, there were now ten more questions bouncing around in his head.

 _Meet at Rakuei Gym tomorrow afternoon._

 _5 o'clock sharp. Don't be late. -Kasuka_


	9. Ch9:A Conversation of the Unnatural Sort

Vorona stared hard into the violet eyes of the man seated across from her, tried to glean whether he was telling the truth. There had been a time in her life where she wouldn't have even given it a thought, when she would have just assumed that he was just trying to play her in some fashion. Or perhaps delusional. But never would she have even considered to give such an outrageous claim a shred of credibility. But now, now things were different. The man across from her was correct; her time in Ikebukuro had shown her things she would have thought impossible. To disregard this Kurai's claim would be foolish, possibly deadly.

The dark-haired man smiled at her as he leaned back, not breaking their eye contact. She couldn't read those eyes, the eyes that held both sincerity and lies, both warmth and darkness.

"You want proof of this, of course," Kurai said smoothly, "I know I would."

"So then prove it."

Vorona could feel herself being dragged along, Kurai in full control of this conversation. She was certain that everything that had been said between them had been engineered exactly how he had foreseen it. However, she didn't see a way around it at this point; she needed more information about her opponent before she could even begin to start flipping the tables. He seemed to know everything about her, and she nothing about him. It did seem though, that he was more than willing to dispense some information, and even false information could be worth something. The longer he talked, the better. And if he felt that he was in full control of the conversation, even better. Perhaps overconfidence would cause him to slip. Regardless, Vorona knew that she was in a position of little power, and it was best to just play along. Not that she had much of a choice in that matter…

"Very well," Kurai replied, "To you, I present two case studies that you have experienced yourself. One happened not long ago, at the end of your—escape attempt. As a Shinigami, I hold certain sway over death. Not complete control, and I can explain the certain intricacies of my powers at a later time, but it is enough for you to know that I have such abilities. I'm certain that you recognized how badly you were injured during your escape. The bullet wound to your shoulder was bad, but the damage you did to your arm was worse. Severed your ulnar artery. I'm sure you realize what that means."

She did. If he was right, she should have bled to death by the time she had reached the exit, especially given her activity.

Kurai reached down and returned with a folder, which he slid across the table to Vorona.

"Your medical records," he says, "in case you don't want to take my word for it. But anything you find in there will only confirm this: that you should be dead right now. But you aren't. Because I saved you from dying, in a way only I am capable of."

Vorona eyed the man across from her carefully, and then looked down at the folder he had slipped over to her. She opened it and found the medical records regarding her injuries and the surgeries and other measures that had been taken to heal her. However, these were not from a public hospital, but rather those of some private, likely in-house doctor.

"These mean nothing," Vorona said, "Your doctor could have easily forged these."

Kurai nodded knowingly. "I had guessed you would assume as much. I can tell you that Doctor Popov did nothing of the sort, but given that you still distrust me, I doubt you will believe that either. So, I have more evidence."

Kurai paused, his smile widening slightly as he looked across the table to her. He obviously wanted her to prompt him to continue, to remind her how in control of this conversation he was. And so Vorona would feed into this arrogance once more.

"Do tell," she said, trying to hide the ever-growing contempt towards the man across from her. But judging by the slight uptick at the edges of his lips, she was doing a very poor job of it.

"The second case study I wish to present to you is the event that took place on a Moscow rooftop several evening ago. I'm sure you remember it well. Your failed assassination attempt that led to your current predicament. But I would like you to recall a very important detail from that evening. The detail that it was, in fact, a _failed_ assassination."

A knot started to form in Vorona's gut as Kurai's words poured from his mouth. They were laced with a confidence that only seems to come from someone who knows that they have their opponent exactly where they want them. The confidence of a gambler who goes all in because he knows he has an unbeatable hand.

"But both you and I know that this should have been impossible," Kurai said. "Because you didn't miss, did you? Your father should be dead right now, not watching you from behind that glass."

Vorona's mind went numb. She remembered lowering the crosshairs, she remembered the squeezing of the trigger. There's no way she could have missed, not that shot. She also remembered the initial surprise when she had discovered that her father was actually alive. It should have been impossible…she had seen him drop, knew that her aim had been true.

And yet, he lived.

"Luckily for him, I was in the room that night," Kurai continued, "I was able to stop him from dying, because he would still prove quite useful to me. Plus, I knew it could be instrumental in convincing you to help me."

It was these last words that Vorona grasped. Regardless of what Kurai said he was and if those words held any truth, he had just hinted at why he was talking her in the first place. Maybe he did hold some sway over her father, or maybe he was just speaking on his behalf, but now perhaps she could figure out why she had been kept alive this long.

"And why exactly do you need to convince me to help you? What do you need me for?"

Kurai nodded and said, "I need you for two reasons. One, because I think that your skill set could prove to be highly useful in the next phase of my plan. Two, because I wish to give you a chance to give someone else a destiny that was taken from you."

Vorona couldn't hide her confusion at this second statement, so she said, "Enough with all this. Speak plainly."

Still smiling, Kurai wagged a playful finger at her. "No, no, no. You forget yourself, I think. Remember who is in charge here." He paused for a moment, playacting that he was thinking over what she had said in a rather overdramatic fashion. "Though you make a good point. Time is not necessarily our friend in this situation. Very well."

The man shifted in his chair, leaning forward slightly. "You see, while I am a shinigami, I was not always aware of such. For much of my life, I believed I was mere human. But I also knew that I was different than most humans, special. Unfortunately, it took some time for me to realize what I truly was. That lost time can never be gotten back, and, as such, I am not able to reach my true potential. I hope to save another from my same fate."

"You see, shinigami are born of humans, and, unless discovered and trained by another shinigami, most never realize their true potential. They merely wander the world, lost and confused, unable to fully connect with their human counterparts. A lost shinigami is dangerous, a chaotic element in an already chaotic world. Death and killing are extremely attractive to them, and as soon as they are exposed to it, they become obsessed with it, for it is part of their normal function in the world. When left to their own devices, shinigami will kill over and over, unconsciously looking for an answer that no human can ever give them. They become serial killers, mercenaries, contract killers, gangsters; destroying until eventually they themselves are destroyed. You can see the problem?"

Vorona frowned, taking in Kurai's words carefully. They felt too familiar…

"So, you want to find a young shinigami then?"

"Exactly," Kurai replied, "Our natural order has been thrown out of balance. Shinigami were hunted by humans because they understood us too little and hunted by other beings because they understood us too well. Numbers of properly trained shinigami shrank exponentially. Now, I believe that I am one of the last, if not the only, shinigami who understands their power. I hope to fix that. Bringing the shinigami back not only helps my people, but also the humans. Shinigami who understand their power do not kill indiscriminately, but rather are guardians of death, bringing it only where it is deserved. They kept the world in balance, a balance that has since been disturbed."

Vorona raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe there was a reason that they were all but destroyed, if they existed at all?"

"Oh they existed, and will exist again, if I can help it," Kurai said with utmost confidence. "And the reasons why they were destroyed: fear, jealousy, greed, misunderstanding. Do those sound like just motives?"

"One side of the story," Vorona said. "There's always another one."

Kurai's smile faded, his lips sliding down. "Perhaps."

A second of silence passed between them, violet irises searching violet irises. Vorona could predict what would happen next; Kurai ask for her help finding this other "shinigami" and securing them. Even if she hadn't bought his strange sob story, he will note that he had leverage over her, likely in the form of Slon. He'd then offer a deal of some sort, a promise that if she helped him, Slon would not be harmed, eventually set free. Depending on his relationship with her father, he might even throw Drakon in as a topper, playing to both compassion and vengeance, covering both bases. But if he had as much sway over her father as he inferred, surely he could do all this without her help? Drakon had a number of capable agents under his command, so why not just use them? Why go through all this trouble just for her? Vorona knew that she should just ask this now, flip the conversation a bit, take advantage of the silence. But a cold feeling was growing in her stomach. Because if she asked the question, he would likely answer it, and she had a feeling she wasn't going to like what he said.

Screw it. They would get to it sooner or later. Time to hear what this man who called himself a shinigami had to say.

"So," Vorona said, the foreboding feeling starting to leak throughout her body, like ice water flowing slowly through her veins. "We both know I do not have much choice. I'm helping you, regardless of whether anything you just said was true or not. You have my companion, and you have me. So, what I want to know is, why me? I'm not sure who you are trying to kidnap, but surely Hans or any of my father's agents would have sufficed."

Kurai's smile crawled back to his lips and excitement flickered in his eyes. "Ah, surely you must have pieced it together by now?" He paused, letting the moment marinate, seeming to enjoy holding this bit of information over her. "Or maybe you just need to hear me say it aloud? Self-denial is such an interesting foe; one that could be so easily defeated, but the comfort it provides is very tempting."

"Stop with all the riddles. Just say what you mean."

"But it's so much more fun this way," Kurai said. "And part of you is begging for my meandering to continue forever, because once I say it, there is no going back. It's out there."

"I'm losing my patience."

Kurai laughed lightly. "Are you now? Well, I don't want that. People end up dead that way, don't they? When they get on the wrong side of you, I mean. A lot of people have made that mistake, haven't they? How many people do you think that you have killed? Fifty? A hundred? Two hundred? A thousand? How many lives do you think that you have taken, hmm? You've likely lost count in their mag—"

"One-hundred and eighty-seven."

Kurai raised an eyebrow. Vorona stared at him, somewhat surprised by her own words. Not by the number, for that was something that she carried with her every day, but because she hadn't meant to say them.

The man across from her regained his composure, his smile returning to his face.

"Impressive," he said, "Most don't have such diligent record keeping. Especially when it reaches such heights. But one-hundred and eighty-seven lives. Gone, snuffed out from this world. Some of their futures gone because they coincided with yours for but a moment. A powerful legacy, full of destruction. Sure, much of it was at your father's orders, but let's be honest with ourselves, if for just a moment. On some level, you liked it. Going all the way back to when you killed that burglar as a child, there's been a part of you that has taken some satisfaction from each and every person you've killed. It's a fascination, an obsession, an uncontrolled passion. One of the most taboo known to man. You know this, and you hate this about yourself. You deny it with every fiber in your being. You know it's wrong, that a human being shouldn't take pleasure in killing one of their own. It's unnatural. But you can't help yourself; when you take a life, you feel power and self-assurance. In those moments, you feel like you are doing what you are supposed to do, that everything makes perfect sense.

"And there's a reason for this, Vorona. A perfectly logical reason, a perfectly natural one. Because while it may be unnatural for humans to take pleasure in killing one another, it is certainly expected of a shinigami."

"You know nothing!" Vorona heard the words escaping, once again not meaning to release them. But they continued to tumble from her lips. "You don't know me!"

Kurai paused, his calm smile infuriating her to no end. Vorona ached to reach across the table and bash his head in, to make the smile stop. But she found herself frozen, the words that had been spoken perhaps holding more truth than she could bare.

"As I said before," Kurai continued, "Self-denial is a most interesting foe. But, let's just say, for a moment, that every assumption I made was correct. Can you perhaps now see why I went through so much effort to find you? Do you now understand why I want you to help me, and why I believe that you are uniquely capable of doing so? Because, here's the thing. You are right. I don't know you. I've done extensive research into your past, dug up everything I could, and connected the dots as I saw them. To me, it all seems to add up. But I'll be honest with you, as I always will be. I don't know what's going on inside that head of yours. Maybe you aren't a shinigami, maybe I'm wrong. But I am very much interested in discovering the truth, and in helping you discover it. And if any of what I just said sounds remotely true, I would ask that you perhaps open your mind to the possibility. It is a difficult thing to accept, especially after a lifetime being taught that such feelings about death were unnatural, so I don't by any means expect instant conversion to my theory.

"Just, think on it, okay?"

His violet irises still held all that charm and charisma on the surface, and the darkness just below. But, with those last few words, there was something even below that, a vulnerability that Vorona wondered if even Kurai realized was there. For at those words, a deep longing played out in those eyes, a longing to finally be understood, a longing to no longer be alone. A longing that she knew all too well, but a longing that she had, with many things, shoved very deep down inside of her.

But there were just too many things to consider at the moment to dwell on that vulnerability for long. It was filed away for later consideration as a thousand other thoughts rushed to push it aside. Vorona found herself floundering in them, unsure of which to consider first. So many questions, whose answers were either time consuming to obtain or terrifying to consider. She quickly realized that she had to push all of them aside for now, for she was still talking with Kurai, and as long as she was doing that, she couldn't let herself be caught off guard.

Because regardless of whether or not she felt the way about death and killing that Kurai assumed, he clearly had gotten the ideas from somewhere. Given that he had used those feelings as the crux of his argument for why he believed she could be a shinigami, and he believed himself one, she could only posit that Kurai himself held those sentiments.

And anyone, whether shinigami or human, who takes pleasure from killing is dangerous.

Vorona stared into those violet eyes of his, the irises that matched her own, and steeled herself for the next part of their conversation. Because, despite everything that had been said, despite the thousands of questions that ran threw her head, there was only one that mattered at this moment. One fact amongst everything remained: this Kurai had Slon, and so she was stuck working with him for now.

"So, who is it that we are kidnapping?" she said, the words tasting of defeat.

"Kidnapping?" Kurai said, "Hardly. I believe 'rescuing' is a more appropriate term."

He seemed to wait for some sort of reaction from Vorona, but when he got none he continued. "The target of our rescue is another reason why you are uniquely qualified to help me in this task. We will be heading to Japan, to the homeland of the shinigami, as is only appropriate. Ikebukuro, in fact. For my research leads me to believe that young Akane Awakusu is a shinigami as well, and I hope to help her avoid the same fate that has befallen both of us. I believe that you know of her, correct?"

Images of the young girl that she had kidnapped once before flashed in her head. Surely, he couldn't be serious? But a quick examination of Kurai's eyes revealed that he was. Could this man honestly believe that this girl was a cold-blooded killer at heart? It was insane, the musings and plans of a man that had clearly lost his mind.

And yet…had he?

The answer, for now, didn't matter. For there was only answer she could give to his question.

"I know her."

"Excellent," Kurai said, folding his hands together and standing. "Well, we have wasted enough time here. We need to get to Ikebukuro soon. Things beyond my control have been set in motion, and if we are not quick, we may be too late to save young Akane. Follow me, and we shall get you some equipment before boarding the private jet that your father has so generously allowed me to use. We shall have a more in depth briefing there, but, as I said, time is of the essence. Come."

He walked around the table and passed by her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he did so. Vorona nodded once and stood, looking Kurai in the eyes, trying to see if she could somehow figure out just how insane this man was. But he gave her a quick smile and then turned towards the door, assuming that Vorona would follow.

And follow she did. No matter what she did, she always seemed to be a tool of someone's game, never able to escape. Always following. Maybe that was her destiny, her lot in life.

But there was no way in hell that she wasn't going to fight against that destiny with every fiber of her being.


	10. Chapter 10: And So It Begins

"You alright?"

The words dragged Shizuo from his thoughts. He glanced over at Tom, who was looking at him with a quizzical look on his face.

"Uh—yeah," he said quickly. "Why?"

Tom shrugged. "You just seem…out of it, I guess."

Had he really been so obvious? Apparently so. Shizuo sighed inwardly; he'd been struggling to keep himself focused all day, but his thoughts continued to stray to the message in his pocket. Ever since he had managed to decode it, questions had bounced around in his head constantly. Questions he needed answers to. Surely Kasuka must in be some sort of trouble, but what kind? Why set up a time at a gym? He must want to meet or something, but why there? As far as he knew, Kasuka had no ties to it. If he was being watched, wouldn't it be suspicious to go somewhere outside his normal routine? Something wasn't adding up, which wasn't surprising given how little he knew about the situation, but it didn't stop him from having a bad feeling about all of this.

"Sorry," Shizuo said, "Just…got something on my mind."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

Shizuo stared straight ahead at the busy street he and Tom were walking towards. They had just finished collecting from a couple of deadbeats. Old Dollars members, actually. They weren't from Ikebukuro originally. Had joined the Dollars online and came here when things started to heat up. Just some kids looking for action and excitement. But now…now they don't know what to do with themselves. Guess the life of a gangster wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Shizuo wondered how many of them there were; people who had dedicated so much to the Dollars, and then, when it shriveled up and died, had been left not knowing what to do. They seemed stuck in their life, unsure if they should just return to whatever their life had been before, or if they could hold onto a little bit of the adrenaline high that this new lifestyle had brought them. Poor fools. And yet, maybe he could understand their plight, in a way…

Tom's question hung in the air as they made their way onto the sidewalk and started towards the office. He couldn't possibly tell Tom what was going on; what good would it do to drag him into something like this? Besides, maybe it wasn't as serious as he had been making it out to be. The fact of the matter was that he just didn't know enough about the situation, and trying to explain anything to Tom would only be confusing and pointless. But, if he were to tell anyone, it would be him. And, if something went wrong, maybe it would be better to have someone know at least a little…

"It's nothing," Shizuo said, adjusting his glasses a bit. "I'm just meeting Kasuka at the Rakuei Gym after we're done here."

"Ah…it's all coming together now." Tom gave him a knowing smile. "Well, glad to see you're making a bit of an effort. Don't over think it so much."

Shizuo nodded. Maybe he was doing that? Was he just being paranoid? No…this was real. Kasuka wouldn't have gone through all that effort if he didn't need to. "I'll try not to."

He looked down at his watch. Quarter to four. If he continued to walk with Tom, he might not make it to the gym on time. It was probably time to leave.

"Actually," Shizuo said, "I'm supposed to meet him at five. Mind if I head out?"

"Sure no problem," Tom said. "Hopefully nobody jumps me on the way back to the office."

Shizuo knew that it was just a joke, but he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for leaving Tom like this. It was dangerous to be wandering the streets with the amount of cash that his friend on him. But it wasn't too far to the office; he should be fine. It's not like Tom constantly needed someone looking after him.

"Well, if they do, you can finally show off all that skill you've been getting at the dojo," Shizuo said, chuckling a bit.

"See, you doubt me, but just you wait. It'll start coming together soon."

Shizuo shook his head and started across the street. "See you tomorrow."

"Yep!" Tom said, raising his voice as they moved further apart. "And don't over think it!"

And soon his dreadlocked friend was lost in the sea of pedestrians. Shizuo gritted his teeth and picked up his pace. It was time to get some answers.

Vorona licked her lips, the dry air of the corporate building drying them out. Her legs muscled up the stairs, most of her strength restored from her injuries she had obtained in Russia. Her arm still ached a bit, but it seemed that her father's doctors had done a good job putting her back together. A couple steps ahead of her was Kurai, his posture flowing and confident even as he ascended. Clothed in a black suit, which was oddly causal and yet pristine, he had told her that it would be best if they could blend in. Suit unbuttoned and tie loose, but landing so perfectly over his body that it had to be purposeful, once again he screamed chaos, but in a fashion of complete control. He was an enigma, a riddle, a puzzle that she needed to figure out if she and Slon were to get out of this alive.

She too was dressed in business attire; black blazer jacket and skirt, white undershirt. It was stupid, she had insisted, to dress in something that would so obviously restrict them if a fight. But her complaints had only been met with a cool smile and a pandering look. Which had been a common occurrence during the flight to Japan in which Kurai had explained his plan. This wasn't how she would have done it at all, and she had made it known throughout the trip. But Kurai had just smiled that smug smile that held no warmth or humor, given her the equivalent of a patronizing pat on the shoulder, and disregarded everything she had said. And so now Vorona found herself in an Awakusu-fronted business, her hand hovering a bit awkwardly at her side, ready to rip the pistol hidden in her jacket free at a moment's notice.

Finally, they reached the tenth-floor landing and Kurai opened the door leading from the stairway. Vorona followed him into what looked like an ordinary lobby, a reception desk at the far end of the off-white room, black comfortable looking chairs lining each side. Behind the desk was a dark-haired woman, who looked up as Kurai and Vorona entered. As Kurai approached in his normal confident manner, Vorona could see confusion and suspicion cross over the receptionist's face.

"Welcome," the woman said briskly, her tone not at all matching her greeting. "I'm not certain what your business is here, but I'm afraid that Mr. Yagami is out of the office today."

Kurai stopped in front of the desk, his smile not leaving his lips. "Oh, that's okay. I wasn't really interested in speaking with Mr. Yagami today."

A frown came across the woman's lips as she looked up from her seat. Her hands settled on her keyboard, though she did not begin to type anything. Her eyes remained locked on Kurai, suspicion growing. "Is that so? Well, perhaps you are lost then? This is the office of Mr. Alt—"

"I'm well aware of where I am, I can assure you of that," Kurai said smoothly.

"Well, then I'm afraid I don't know why you are here. As I said, Mr. Yagami is out of the office and, as such, he has no appointments sche—"

"You're not listening," Kurai said, "I said that I'm not here for Mr. Yagami."

"If that's the case, then I'm afraid I can't help you," the woman said coolly, her eyes now darting between him and Vorona.

"No, I believe you can be very helpful indeed." Kurai's eyes suddenly flash down to the woman's hands, which had started to glide across the keyboard. His smile faded, replaced by an icy frown. "And, if you wish to remain in a state in which you can continue to be useful, I suggest you stop typing."

"Are you threatening me, sir?" the receptionist says, still typing. "I'm going to call security if you don't leave immediately."

Kurai sighed, and then he suddenly flashed forward. There was a glint of silver in the light as he lurched over the desk, one hand grasping her right wrist and twisting it away from the keyboard. His other arm hammered down, driving the knife he held directly into the hand he had trapped. The receptionist screamed in pain as the weapon punctured straight through her flesh and embedded into the wood of the desk below. It had all happened so quickly that even Vorona was caught off guard. This hadn't been part of the plan…

"You still aren't listening," Kurai said, holding the knife down, pinning the woman to her desk. "I _said_ to stop typing."

The receptionist's free hand struck quickly, blurring towards Kurai's head. It wasn't the crazed, adrenaline-fueled strike of a civilian, but a focused, trained strike. It may have connected, but Vorona had not been sitting around idly as the events around her had started to transpire. As soon as her mind had comprehended what Kurai had done, she had jumped into action, sliding around the desk and positioning herself next to the receptionist. Vorona intercept the blow with one arm and grabbed the woman's wrist with the other, pinning it back behind her back. The woman let out a yell of frustration and kicked the chair that she was seated in out from underneath her, intending it to collide with Vorona. However, she had been expecting this and maneuvered easily out of the way, contorting the poor woman's body as she did so. Sticking out her leg, Vorona took out the receptionist's footing and sent her sprawling to the ground, her right arm upraised to the desk, Kurai's knife still holding it there.

"Now, I suggest you start listening now," Kurai said, his voice oddly calm and yet deadly. "A receptionist is supposed to be helpful, no?"

"You can go to hell!" the woman said, "I'm not helping you! And the Awakusu won't take kindly to—"

"No no no. That won't do at all."

The woman screamed in pain as Kurai twisted his knife in her hand. His smile started to creep across his face again, the darkness and hunger in his violet eyes slipping past the normal surface level charisma.

"You see, the Awakusu won't have to know about this…unfortunate meeting. I've already made sure to change the camera feeds, and you'll just have to clean up this little bit of mess and—"

"Like hell!" the woman screamed. She continued to struggle, both against Vorona and the knife in her hand, but she didn't have the leverage in either situation. "You've made a terrible mistake. I'm not going to help you with anything, and then they'll find you and you'll be—"

Kurai twisted the knife again and the woman cut off her words as she sucked in air through her teeth in pain. "You _need_ to stop talking. Listen to what I say. You're going to call Yoki and Akira off from their guard duty today. Tell them that there's been a change of plans, that you need them elsewhere. There's trouble at the club that only they can handle. You've found replacements for them. Then you'll—"

"And why the hell do you think I'm going to do that?" the woman seethed. "Threaten me all you want; I'm not afraid to die."

Kurai's smile grew wider, the hunger in his eyes deepening. "No, you're not, are you? There are, however, worse things than death. Much worse things. No…the price of noncompliance is not death, in this case. Say, what do you think Kai is doing right now? He must be getting off of work soon? And little Yuri, she must be home already?"

The woman's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare! If any harm comes to them, I'll make sure I'll hu—"

"Oh, no, you misunderstand," Kurai said. "I don't intend to harm them at all. I do, however, intend to…enlighten them, if you prove to be uncooperative."

At this, shock spread across the receptionist's face. "You…you…they wouldn't…"

"Wouldn't what? Believe it? Oh, don't worry, I have my ways. I have more than enough evidence on your dealings with the Awakusu, your secret life that you've been living. I know what you've done and I can make sure they know too. Suddenly all the pieces will start to click together, the small inconsistencies in your stories will all add up. It'll be undeniable. And you, my dear, will lose them. But not only that…they'll know the _real_ you. The monster."

The woman stopped struggling. For the first time, the defiant look in her eyes fades away.

"Ah that's much better," Kurai said. "See how smoothly this can go when you are listening?"

He paused, apparently relishing his victory. Vorona eyed him carefully, taking this fact in and hiding it away for later. This man, he doesn't just try to accomplish his goals...no, he has to do it in spectacular fashion, has to know that he has crushed his opponent, and he lives for that knowledge.

"I asked you a question," Kurai said, his smile curling tight.

The woman just nodded, all fight gone.

"Good, good. Now, no one will have to know anything. Not your family, not the higher-ups in the Awakusu. You can keep living your life just as you always have, and no one will have to be the wiser. I've set it up so that poor Yoki and Akira will take the fall for this…miscommunication and you'll go free. However, you do anything to tip off your associates, and both they and your family will know the truth. So really, you only stand to lose if you don't help me. Does all this make sense to you?"

The woman nodded again.

"Good. Glad to hear it," Kurai said. "Now, how about we give old Yoki and Akira a call, shall we? They need to know that Akane will have some new chaperones today…"

Shizuo eyed the entrance of the gym, watching as students exited after the day's lesson. Most of them were kids, likely those who took the class directly after school gets out. The sight briefly brought back memories of the past, faces that he hadn't seen in some time. Izaya's twin sisters, Mairu and Kururi. Akane Awakusu. Vorona. He shook his head, trying to remove them from his thoughts. He was here for a reason, and he shouldn't let himself become distracted.

Shizuo took a final drag from his cigarette and then flicked it away. He leaned away from the wall of the corner store about a block away from the gym, a position he had taken as a precaution. He scanned the gym's surrounding area, looking for any sign of Kasuka. The note had said five o'clock sharp, and it was getting pretty damn close.

 _C'mon where the hell are you…_

But then, something grabbed his attention. The man had just exited a car and was walking towards the gym's entrance. It was the man's appearance that had instantly caused Shizuo's eyes to gravitate towards him, for it was an appearance that was iconic in Ikebukuro, a guise that he was very familiar with. The man's hair was medium in length, bleached an eye-catching blonde. He wore sunglasses and a bartender's uniform; white undershirt with a black pants and vest and a bowtie to boot.

This man walking up to the gym looked exactly like him.

A strange twisting formed in his gut as Shizuo took in his doppleganger.

 _What the hell…?_

He was frozen as he watched this man moved purposefully up the steps leading to the gym, his mind trying to catch up to what was going on. And as he followed this man's trajectory, he saw another familiar face: Akane Awakusu. The twisting feeling in his gut grew and he found himself slowly moving away from the shop, towards the gym. Something was wrong…something that was way over his head, something that he couldn't comprehend.

And then, he watched as his doppleganger grabbed hold of Akane, right in the middle of several dozen witnesses. Watched as she suddenly went limp in her captor's grip, watched as the other Shizuo scooped her up amongst the scared cries of the other kids around her and ran to the black car that awaited him. Shizuo found himself running now, rushing forward, not knowing what was going on but knowing that he had to stop it. But he was too far away; his doppleganger was already in the vehicle with Akane, and the vehicle was already screeching away.

 _Dammit! DAMMIT GET BACK HERE!_

Shizuo sprinted towards the car, but he knew it was helpless. He wouldn't be able to catch it. But as he ran, another thought ran through his head. As far as all those around here were concerned, it appeared that Shizuo Heiwajima had just kidnapped Akane Awakusu. Someone, whoever had actually kidnapped her, had wanted exactly that. His reputation would be his undoing; both the police and the Awakusu would instantly recognize his description. And while the police had often turned a blind eye in his direction before, there was no way they could ignore a kidnapping. And the Awakusu…they were even worse. If they caught him, they wouldn't believe him even if he pleaded innocence.

Whoever had just kidnapped Akane had just framed him, and neither party interested in getting her back would listen to him. Within the hour, Shizuo Heiwajima would become the most wanted man in Ikebukuro. Both sides of the law would be after him and he had nothing to prove his innocence to those who weren't willing to listen.

He needed to disappear. Regroup. Try and figure out what _the hell_ was going on here.

 _DAMMIT!_

He suddenly cut sideways, heading not after the car but down a side alley. And, at the last moment, just before he fully rounded the corner, Shizuo saw what might have been the most surprising development yet. It was only a fraction of a second, so maybe he had been mistaken. But he would recognize those sharp features anywhere, that long, flowing blonde hair whipping around as she sped after the car on a motorcycle, her violet eyes laser focused.

 _Vorona._


	11. Chapter 11: Chase the Past

Vorona scanned the area outside Rakuei Gym, a small frown plastered on her face. She was straddling the motorcycle that Kurai had "procured" for her, and she really had no interest in learning how exactly he had done so. It was clear that the man was not only dangerously delusional, but also extremely well-informed and a extensive planner. The incident at the Awakusu fronted office had confirmed that. It was clear that Kurai had been planning this for some time, and had both the resources and the intelligence to use them to possibly pull this off. But the question remained: why? Why was this man so bent on taking Akane Awakusu? There didn't seem to be any logical explanation for what he was doing. To mess with both her father and the Awakusu was basically suicidal, and he didn't really seem to have anything to gain by doing so. The only explanation that she could come up with was the one that Kurai had given her. Which seemed to mean something else.

Either this man truly was what he claimed, or he fully believed in the fantasy. Vorona leaned toward the latter explanation, because the former still seemed too strange to be true, even after all that she had seen last time she had been in Ikebukuro. And perhaps because the former had some implications that she didn't want to consider at the moment.

But regardless, Vorona was starting to put to the pieces together on her companion. Something she would need to do if she were to get herself out of this situation.

From where she was stationed, about a block away from the gym, Vorona had a decent view of the front of the facility. A flock of children had just burst forth from its doors; apparently the lesson had just concluded, just as Kurai had known. While she couldn't see Akane in this initial wave, she didn't doubt that the young girl would soon be exiting the building. Her frown deepened as she saw Kurai approaching from across the street. Vorona racked her brain for something that she could do, as she had been doing since her companion had revealed his plan to her. However, once again, she came up empty. Her hands were tied.

"Are you ready?" Kurai's voice filtered through the earpiece she wore, his tone almost downright jovial.

"Of course," Vorona replied coolly. "I'm always ready."

Kurai chuckled, the warm tone pinpricked with the underlying madness. "My apologies. It was not my intention to question your professionalism."

Despite his words, Vorona had a feeling that he had meant to do exactly that. A small reminder that he had once bested her because she hadn't been prepared. A little allusion that he was the one in charge. Or, maybe he hadn't meant that at all. Maybe she was just making these things up.

Vorona shook her head. She couldn't allow herself to get absorbed into his mind games. It was making her second guess not only everything that he said, but also everything she herself thought. She gritted her teeth and gripped the throttle tightly in her gloved hand. Taking in a deep breath, Vorona attempted to center herself. Kurai's words had spoken some truth, regardless of what their true intention had been. She couldn't allow herself to be unprepared again. She had to be ready for anything.

And it was then that something caught Vorona's eye, something that caused her to instantly fail at the resolution she had just given herself. Climbing up the stairs leading up to the Rakuei Gym was a man in a bartender's outfit, shaggy hair bleached blonde, sunglasses over his eyes. It was a stark look that would stand out anywhere, but even more so in Ikebukuro. Because that look had a reputation linked to it here. A reputation, and a name.

Shizuo Heiwajima.

Vorona stared as the man ascended the stairs, her mind suddenly sent racing. It had been over a year since she had last seen him, over a year that they had split paths at the airport. It felt like a lifetime ago that they had said their goodbyes; so much had happened since then. But now, here he was, standing but a block away. The thought that perhaps she would meet some of the people she had gotten to know during her time in Ikebukuro had crossed Vorona's mind ever so briefly on the plane ride to Japan, but she had shoved it aside quickly. Dwelling on something like that would have been futile, and honestly, she wasn't entirely sure if she even _wanted_ to see any of those people on this trip. But now, there he was, Shizuo Heiwajima, in the flesh.

And while a flurry of emotions and questions rushed through her head, there was only one that truly stuck out among the rest. Only one that really mattered in this moment. Because it was too much of a coincidence that Shizuo would be here, right now, just as Kurai's plans were about to come to fruition.

 _What are you doing here Shizuo?_

And then, the pieces fell into place right before her eyes. The girl, Akane, came into Vorona's vision, and she instantly recognized Shizuo's trajectory. Her mind was working slowly, confusion impeding her thought processes. He too, was headed for Akane, a while she recognized this, she couldn't come up with the answer as to why until it happened. As the young girl fell limp in his arms, Vorona could hardly comprehend what she was seeing. It didn't make any sense. The scene before her, one where Shizuo Heiwajima rushed to a waiting black car with an unconscious girl slung unceremoniously over his shoulder, didn't match anything she understood.

And yet, while one part of her mind struggled to grasp the situation unfolding before her, another was working on a level where she didn't know anything about Shizuo Heiwajima. Putting the pieces together, minus the variable of her knowledge of Shizuo. And it this part of her that came to a realization: Kurai had just been outmaneuvered.

And as the tires of the black car squealed, announcing its quick departure, it appeared that Kurai had come to the same realization. His voice entered her ear, and for the first time, Vorona believed that she heard what her companion truly sounded like. Gone were the honied surface-level intonations, leaving bare the cool, dangerous darkness underneath. Barely controlled anger seethed under every syllable, as if each uttered word was the potential breaking point.

"Follow that car. Now."

But Kurai hadn't even needed to give that order. Because by the time the words had left his mouth, Vorona had already thrummed the motorcycle to life. Not even bother to put on her helmet, she slammed the throttle forward, the engine rumbling as the rubber of the tires found traction on the pavement, launching both she and vehicle forward. Her eyes locked onto the black car in front. Her target.

The air whipped around her as she blasted through the Ikebukuro streets, pushing the motorcycle to reckless limits. Vorona didn't think about what she was doing, and she certainly didn't consider the many questions that were begging to be answered. Instead, she was a blank sheet, letting her instincts and reflexes take over, solely focused on the task of catching the black car. It had made several quick turns through the residential district near the gym, zooming past slower traffic and ignoring stop signs and traffic lights. Vorona was able to keep pace with the maneuvers, just catching sight of her target turning as she would round the previous corner it had taken.

After several twists and turns through the residential district, the driver of the black vehicle seemed to recognize that they were being tailed and changed tactics. Wheeling onto a main avenue, the car then pulled onto a busy highway, weaving in and out of traffic. Whoever the driver was, they certainly knew what they were doing behind the wheel. However, what they hadn't accounted for was that Vorona was equally skilled, and her smaller and more agile motorcycle allowed her to cut through the traffic of the highway with relative ease. She was gaining ground, and the driver of the car knew it.

Her target started making riskier maneuvers, cutting between two merging vehicles and slipping by a semi at the last possible moment. Whoever was at the wheel, they didn't want to be caught, and seemed willing to risk life and limb to make that happen. Vorona needed to end this chase quickly, before the driver got either her or themselves killed. Pushing her bike past the semi, she ripped the accelerator forward, zipping around a truck that her target had caused to slow down.

While Vorona was moving around the truck, she momentarily lost sight of the black car. That is why, when it purposefully spun out a convertible, she wasn't prepared to have the two tons of careening metal directly in her path. She briefly caught the surprised looks of the two passengers in the vehicle, their screams of panic lost in the sounds of screeching tires and sliding metal. And then they were gone as the truck that she had been passing slammed into the side of the red sports car, unable to slow down or get out of the way. Vorona wrenched her bike to the right, in a desperate attempt to dodge the cascading damage, but the two vehicles had wedged her against the cement barrier of the highway with nowhere to go. She became briefly aware of the semi now barreling down on them, its brakes wearing themselves raw as the driver tried to slow the immense forward momentum. Vorona knew though, that it would not stop in time.

 _Dammit…_

Vorona threw her motorcycle sideways, trying to slow down as much as possible. The careening truck's bumper nicked her back wheel, sending her into a wobbling disarray. She quickly threw the front wheel in the opposite direction, trying to counter the disruption and managed to regain some control of her vehicle. But by now, the semi was nearly on top of them, already starting to spin sideways and nearly taking up the entire highway's width. Seeing only one possible way out of this, Vorona steeled herself and then slid her bike horizontal. Her right leg lit up in pain as it met concrete and her world roared as the back half of the semi slid over her. Losing almost all control, Vorona had no choice but to just let physics take control. She vaguely noted that a car nearly smashed headlong into her sliding form before correcting its course at the last moment. Closing her eyes, knowing that would happen next was completely out of her control, she took in a quick breath, curious if it would be her last. She prepared herself for an impact that would likely leave her dead or for friction to eventually do its work and slow her to a stop.

 _Should have worn that helmet,_ she thought to herself. An odd thought for a moment like this, especially because it seemed unlikely that it would have done much of anything anyhow. Interesting, how mundane someone's final thoughts could be…

But then, her world finally came to a halt and she opened her eyes. There were several vehicles stopped around her, all of which had managed to avoid hitting her. One of the drivers was getting out their car, looking at her with great concern on their face. But she couldn't just sit here…the vehicle was getting away and she needed to…

But she knew that it was over. There was no way she was going to catch them now. Like Kurai, she'd been outmaneuvered. She needed to fall back. Regroup. Her leg was injured, and she'd need to have that fixed up. Gritting her teeth, letting the pain rush through her, she righted her motorcycle and tried to bring it to life. The driver who had come out to help her, a woman dressed in a business suit, was scrambling towards her, her heels clacking against the concrete. The bike's engine turned over once, twice, three times before managing to come to life.

"Are you sure you're-?" the woman started, but the rest of her words were lost as Vorona roared away, slipping through the stopped vehicles and heading for the nearest exit. She needed to get away from here as soon as possible and lie low. The police would likely have her face from the traffic cameras, and the woman could maybe give them a description, but she wasn't about to make it easy on them and wait for them to reach the sight. While she hadn't caused the accident, she had clearly been recklessly chasing the vehicle that had, which might be considered just as bad. The Ikebukuro police were not the most understanding, and they certainly had their grievances in regards to motorcyclists. Her leg screamed in pain but she tried to ignore it; she didn't want to examine it, knowing that the damage was probably fairly bad.

Activating her line with Vorona said through clenched teeth. "Target managed to escape. Caused a traffic accident on the freeway that I got caught up in. Leg is pretty badly injured."

There was only static for a long second. But then Kurai responded, his voice controlled and calm, but she could sense the anger that lurked beneath. "Very well. Understood. Head to Rendezvous Point One. There we can discuss out next move."

"Understood. Vorona out."

And then she cut the line, her focus now on the road as it zipped by. As she corrected her course for Rendezvous Point One, she briefly wondered what that next step might be. Someone had known that Kurai was going to try and take Akane today and had somehow known exactly when he was going to do it. But it wasn't the Awakusu, because they would have just prevented him from taking her. No…someone else had an interest in the young Awakusu heir and had used Kurai's plans to their advantage. But who was this? And why were _they_ interested in Akane? Surely they didn't have the same demented reasoning as he did. Right? And how did they know what Kurai had been planning? This all felt like something larger than what her companion had made it out to be. He had left out some details regarding his reasons for wanting to take Akane into his custody. Details she would be certain to demand next time she saw the self-proclaimed god of death.

But underneath all these questions was one that burned more fervently than the rest.

 _How does Shizuo Heiwajima fit into all of this?_


	12. Chapter 12: Frail Alliance

Shizuo Heiwajima made his way down another alley, trying to avoid the main streets if at all possible. Only an hour had passed since the event, but he was certain that the Awakusu would already be looking for him and it wouldn't be long until the police would soon follow. He was now the most wanted man in Ikebukuro, on both sides of the law, and his options for sanctuary were slim. The brief thought of running away, of leaving the city, had passed his mind, but he instantly tossed it aside. There were too many reasons to stay.

First, Akane had been kidnapped, and he couldn't allow that to stand. He couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for the young girl, even though it was hardly his place to feel such things. She certainly hadn't done anything to deserve what had happened to her, at the very least, and he couldn't just stand by and pretend that he hadn't seen that injustice.

Second, he wasn't sure if his pride would have allowed him to do so. Whoever had actually kidnapped Akane had, by using his likeness, had dragged Shizuo into this mess. Whether it was on purpose or because the kidnapper had just used a look that he knew would draw attention away from himself didn't matter. The kidnapper had just made a very real mistake, one that Shizuo was certain to make him pay for.

Third, there were other people other than Akane that were linked with what had just happened. Kasuka and Vorona. He wasn't certain what each of them had to do with this, but he was determined to find out. Given what he knew, it would seem that Kasuka had meant for him, Shizuo, to intervene with what had just happened. Somehow, he had known what was going to happen, and had done his best to try to stop it. But how had he acquired such information? Somehow, his brother was wrapped up in this, but he didn't seem to be a willing participant. But what of Vorona? Shizuo could hardly hazard a guess. On the surface, it seemed likely she had been hired to help the kidnappers. But surely she wouldn't have agreed to that?

Or maybe she would have. Vorona had always kept her cards very close to her chest, and though he had believed that perhaps he had begun to understand her, there was the possibility that he really hadn't learned anything. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that her whole personality had been a false one, a face put up by an expert assassin. And yet, he couldn't accept that. Not yet. Not without knowing more. He needed a clear answer.

And that's why he was now traversing the alleys of Ikebukuro instead of trying to book a flight that would take him as far away from here as possible. He had never been one to back down from a fight, and this time was no different. The kidnapper had called out Shizuo as an opponent, by using his likeness and the people around him, and whether this was intentional or not, Shizuo was not going to ignore it. He would crush whoever was behind this, make sure that they understood just how big of a mistake they had made.

But to do so, he'd need to be smart. There was a complex web of entanglements surrounding him, one that he would need to unweave if he were to ever exact justice on the one who had caused all of this. Getting caught by the police or the Awakusu and having to fight his way out of either would be extremely counterproductive, so avoiding them would be paramount. But he also couldn't just run headlong into every situation with idea that fighting would take care of the problem. Not right away, at least. He needed to gently remove strands from the web first, loosen its strength before launching his attack on the spider. If he charged in now, without knowing anything, the web would certainly trap him. And if he just started ripping apart the web with reckless abandon, then the spider would become alert to his presence and could either flee or prepare to fight. But if he were careful and quiet, if he could pull away strands bit by bit, he wouldn't draw the attention of the spider until it was much too late. Its fate would be sealed.

Shizuo understood all this, but knowing how to actually go about it was another matter entirely. And doing this the wrong way would be even more detrimental then just punching everything in the way. At least that way, he could inflict some damage. It would certainly be the more straightforward way, and he would at least generally know what he was doing. And then the rage that he was holding back would have an outlet.

But he should at least _try_ the more subtle route, at least at first. If it didn't work right away, at least there would be time to change tactics.

But where to begin? Certainly, his first action would be to disappear, but then what? Kasuka knew something, but it would likely not be wise for Shizuo to contact him, at least until he understood a bit more about who he was confronting. It was clear that Kasuka hadn't felt safe to converse with Shizuo directly about what was going on, giving him the information in only a way that would have made sense to the two of them. Which likely meant that his brother was likely in some sort of constant danger from whoever was behind this, something that he couldn't escape. Which then meant that any contact with him would likely only increase that danger, something that Shizuo wanted to avoid at all costs. So, until he better understood what was going on, he would have to stay away from Kasuka.

If Kasuka was out of the picture, then there was only one other real lead that he had. It wasn't a great one, but given how little he knew about this situation, it was better than nothing.

He would need to find Vorona.

Vorona guided the scraped-up bike around a corner, the sounds of distant sirens reaching her ears. However, as long as they remained just that, distant, she wouldn't worry too much about them. And she doubted that she would be found here; she had taken a roundabout route, so that even if those from the highway were able to identify her and give the police a general direction, they would be thrown off for a couple hours at least. And by then, she and Kurai would be gone.

As she sped down the mostly empty street in the old industrial sector, Vorona wondered how her companion was handling this turn of events. She had yet to see him fail at anything, and could only wonder how he, as overly confident in his plans as he was, would respond to something like this. Could he be adaptable, or would he fall apart? At any rate, Kurai was back peddling, and Vorona was ready to take advantage of that.

Unfortunately, she herself was hurting. The crash had done some significant damage to her leg, and now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, a constant pain had settled all along the limb. She would need to get some sort of treatment; she couldn't tell if it was broken or not, but it was pretty torn up and infection would set in if it wasn't looked after. Going to a normal hospital was out of the question; the police would likely be using every bit of information in their investigation and she had foolishly not worn a helmet during the chase. Her face would be described by many eyewitnesses and traffic cameras would be consulted as well. Which meant she would need an underground doctor.

The sky had adopted an orange hue by the time Vorona reached the abandoned warehouse that Kurai had designated as their first rendezvous point. She wondered if he had somehow gotten here before her, but the question answered itself almost immediately as the large cargo door to the warehouse started to slide up, revealing her companion on the other side. Still in his suit and an unreadable expression of calm on his face, Kurai gestured her to enter, and she led her bike inside. The large open loading dock of the building had been cleared out, likely many years prior, and the struggling sound of the motorcycle's engine echoed throughout it. Behind her, Kurai slid the door back down and walked over to her, not saying a word.

Vorona cut the engine and slid herself off the motorcycle. Her leg ached in pain at even the slightest weight put on it, angry red, mangled flesh visible beneath the tattered remains of her jumpsuit pants. Kurai's eyes lingered there the longest, and while his face remained passive, she could tell he was running calculations in his head, likely trying to figure out how her condition would factor into his next move. Vorona couldn't help but wince as she hobbled over to a set of nearby stairs and set herself down on it, but she hoped that Kurai hadn't noticed. Show this man any sort of weakness and he would likely take advantage of it, even if you were his ally.

For a while, only silence passed between them, her sitting and assessing the damage to her leg, him standing several paces, his back turned to her. Vorona frowned; they should be discussing their next move and then get on with it. Sitting around like this wouldn't help anything; not in avoiding the police, not at getting her wounds treated, and certainly not in getting close to the answers that she wanted.

"I'm guessing all of that wasn't part of your plan," Vorona said, biting back the pain. "So what's our next move?"

Kurai remained turned away from her, but he did answer.

"I shall let you know when I see fit."

His voice was cool, lacking the false warmth that it so often seemed to have. He was apparently rattled and had, for the moment at least, abandoned some of the pretenses he normally put up. Good.

"Fine," Vorona replied, "But we shouldn't sit here for—"

"I'm wondering," Kurai said, now turning to her, "how foolish are you?"

Vorona cut her sentence short, caught off guard by Kurai's words. His eyes were dark, that what was normally concealed brought to the forefront. It was almost an inhuman look on his face, one of merciless cold. More unsettling was the lack of rage there; either he was adept at hiding it even now, or this was fueled by something darker than some as human as anger.

"Because I did not take you for one," Kurai said, taking steps towards her, "and yet, here we are."

Vorona tried to get to her feet as Kurai advanced on her, but her leg stopped her from reacting quickly. In no time at all, he was on her, gripping her face with a surprisingly strong hand and dragging her up the rest of the way. His palm against her cheek was ice cold and his violet eyes stared directly into hers.

"So," Kurai said, still gripping her face, "You will explain to me how Shizuo Heiwajima seemed to know exactly when and where we were to take possession of our sister?"

Vorona inwardly shuddered at the mention of "our sister." It served as a reminder of how deluded this man was, and how he believed that she was part of this delusion. She tried not to consider the alternative. But the first part of the message was the more important one for the time being. Kurai was suggesting that she had somehow betrayed him, even though she had been under his watchful eye almost the entire time since they had left Moscow.

She ripped her head sideways, removing herself from his grip and looked defiantly into his eyes.

"I cannot explain," Vorona said, "though I fully intend on finding the answer."

Kurai searched her eyes for a moment, and then a small smile came across his lips. The false warmth came back to his eyes, and suddenly, he was back, the ruse restored, the truth once again concealed behind layers of deceit. Apparently, whatever she had said had been exactly what he was looking for. Still, the way in which he could turn his entire exterior persona on and off was alarming.

"Indeed, you will," Kurai said, his smile continuing to curl upwards. "This was only a slight roadblock in our plan. While rescuing Akane there would have been the most efficient way, it was certainly not the only one. I understood that our time was limited, that everything had already been set in motion and by doing so, there was a possibility of this. I have a number of contingency plans prepared in case of this event."

He paused and Vorona could only wonder what he meant by "everything had been set in motion." There seemed to be more to this than just Kurai's own demented plan to kidnap a young girl, something that her companion had clearly been aware of but had not felt the need to pass on to her.

"If you know who got to her first, you need to start giving me more informa—"

But once again, Kurai stopped her. "I do know, as do you. Shizuo Heiwajima."

"But that…it doesn't—"

"What?" Kurai asked, almost playfully. It was disturbing how much his disposition had changed. "What about that fact confuses you? Hmm?"

"He wouldn't do that," Vorona said.

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because he's not like me, or like you," Vorona said.

"You say that with such confidence," Kurai noted, "And on one hand, you are quite correct. No one is like us. And yet, I believe that you know how inhuman many humans are capable of acting, no? So is it really so far out of the realm of possibility that—"

"Yes," Vorona said defiantly. "Shizuo Heiwajima would never do something like that."

"And yet," Kurai replied, apparently relishing this conversation, "he just did. You saw it with your own eyes, did you not? People change, my dear. Or they lie, or they disguise their true selves from—"

Once again, Vorona cut her companion short. "You speak to someone who is well aware of such things. I am capable at detecting when I am being lied to, or being fed a false persona."

"Then perhaps you have allowed something to blind you," Kurai said. "Because, despite all the evidence, you still refuse to accept the most obvious conclusion."

"I—" Vorona started, but then the words caught in her throat. Was it true? Had she somehow allowed her judgement to be clouded? That surely couldn't be the case…could it? Self-doubt suddenly ran rampant.

But she couldn't let that distract her. There was only one way to solve this, to find out if her defense of Shizuo Heiwajima was justified or if she had indeed allowed herself to become vulnerable in such a foolish way. She needed to discover the truth behind Shizuo's sudden involvement, and only then would her questions be sated. Luckily, or perhaps not so, her goals seemed to align with Kurai's.

"What I am saying," Vorona said, regathering herself, "is that this is an uncharacteristic action for Shizuo Heiwajima to make. Which makes me believe that there is more at play here." She paused, unsure if she should push the issue, but decided that it was worth the risk.

"Something that you aren't telling me. If you want me to help you, you need to start telling me everything."

At this, Kurai nodded, which surprised Vorona. "There is indeed much more to this game, more than I have let on. However, there is a time and place for this information to be passed on to you, and now is not that time."

"Why not?" Vorona growled. He openly admitted that he was withholding information, but what possible reason could he have for doing so? He believed her on his side, did he not?

"Because revealing such information now would not only be time consuming, but also pointless and perhaps counterproductive towards my goals. Because some of what I know may prove to be false, given what has happened today, and giving you false information would only make your next task possibly more difficult. And even if some of it is true, it should not apply directly to what I need of you. But while you are working on your next mission, I shall be working on tasks of my own, gathering and confirming information, collecting resources for our next move. But know that, when the time is right, I shall reveal what is going on."

Kurai smiled at her with that fake smile and Vorona shook her head.

"No," she said, "Not good enough. You tell me now."

"Or?" Kurai replied. "See, you have no position to bargain, my dear. Do you forget I have your friend with your father? Or that I could easily kill you now, if I wished? Besides, I believe that you will find that your next assignment will be as much to your liking as it is mine. A project to tide your curiosity over, until I can discover more about what we are dealing with.

"You see, while there was a possibility of some interference with our plans, the presence of Shizuo Heiwajima was a variable that I had not predicted. Given your similar interest in the man, as well as your intimate knowledge of him and those around him, I believe it would be best to send you off to discover why he kidnapped our poor Akane while I do my own investigations and prepare for our next step. Find Heiwajima and we, at the very least, are one step closer to finding Akane."

This seemed to be the best situation Vorona could hope for right now, and if it was between her and Kurai hunting down Shizuo, she'd rather it be her. While Shizuo Heiwajima was the strongest man she had ever encountered, there was certainly something very strange about Kurai, and whether or not his powers were real or not, it wasn't a risk worth taking. All the strength in the world couldn't defend against something like that. And, while she didn't like to admit it, Vorona knew that Kurai spoke the truth; she was indeed very invested in discovering the truth behind Shizuo's involvement. So, given her situation, she supposed that there were certainly worse outcomes, and fighting against this one would be a foolish endeavor.

"Very well," Vorona said. "I shall find Shizuo Heiwajima."

"Good," Kurai said, nodding. "But know this; I know he has now bested you twice, curiously both involving Akane. You cannot fail a third time. Do so, and I may rethink your usefulness to me."

"Understood."

"Excellent," Kurai said, "Our sister will be rescued soon, and then…well then our true plans can start to take fold. I shall have a new motorcycle, clothing, and rations sent to Rendezvous Point Three, where I believe you should spend the night." He paused and looked down to her leg. "I know of several doctors that could take care of that for you. I shall give you their contact information, if you wish."

"Thank you, but that is not necessary," Vorona said, "I know of one that could prove to be useful on multiple fronts."

Kurai raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. "As you see fit. Contact me when you reach the rendezvous. I have some calls to make, and somewhere I need to go, so it is here that I take my leave."

And with that, the man made his way to the exit. When he opened the door, the orange sky had deepened in its rich tone, signaling that night was nearing. And then the door closed behind him, leaving Vorona alone in the empty warehouse. She limped over to her damaged bike and, with a bit of effort, she managed to sling herself onto it. She knew she shouldn't stay here any longer; the sooner she could get to the old apartment building, and more specifically Apartment 7, which apparently Kurai had somehow come into the possession of, the better. Because the sooner she got there, the sooner she could get to her next destination without attracting too much attention to herself. And while she had never met Shinra Kishitani, she felt certain that he could help her, perhaps in more ways than one. And while she was unsure of so many things at this moment, there was one thing Vorona was certain of.

 _Whatever it takes, I will find you, Shizuo Heiwajima._


	13. Chapter 13: Tea for Two

"And that should be it!" Shinra said cheerfully. "Considering what happened, you should count yourself very lucky! As long as you stay off your leg, it should heal up just fine in a couple days."

Vorona knew that hindering herself for so long was not an option, but it was pointless to bring it up to the doctor. He had served half his purpose; he had managed to repair the mangled flesh of her leg for the most part, though he had said that it would likely scar. Shinra had also given her medication to deal with the pain and had promised the highest discretion, so as far as she were concerned, he had more than succeeded in that manner. However, it was now time to confront him about her second reason for being here.

"You know Shizuo Heiwajima, correct?" she asked as she got tenderly to her feet, gingerly testing her leg.

"You could say that," Shinra replied, moving over to the sink in his kitchen and washing his hands of her blood. "You said that you were an acquaintance of his?"

"He and I used to work together for Tom Tanaka, yes."

Vorona limped over to him, eyeing him carefully. He was much too trusting for a doctor in his line of work. Which either meant he was foolish or dangerous, and she was in no state to test which it was. Not that there was really any reason to. Hopefully, he would willingly give her the information that she needed.

"Ah, so you're in _that_ line of work then," Shinra said, turning the faucet off and turning to her. They stood in his kitchen, not but a step away from each other. Certainly within striking distance if she needed to be. "I suppose it explains the injury. Debt collection in Ikebukuro is a dangerous business." He paused, seemingly a bit lost in thought. "Though, now that I think about it, most business in Ikebukuro is dangerous in some way." He shrugged and smiled at her.

This doctor's behavior continued to boggle her. But as long as he remained helpful, it didn't really matter.

"I suppose so," Vorona said. "I'm looking for Shizuo Heiwajima right now. Perhaps you could help me?"

Shinra's gaze shifted from her to the ceiling, and his hand went to his chin. His expression changed to one of concentration.

"Well, I mean, he's still working with Tom Tanaka, I think," Shinra said, still examining his ceiling, as if the answer to her question lay there. "So if you want to find Shizuo, I think that your best bet would be to find Tom! I honestly have no idea where either of them lives, but you know where the agency is at, right?"

Vorona frowned; this wasn't really any new information to her. Surely Tom wasn't behind the kidnapping. She would have to push a little harder.

"He hasn't taken on any new associates?" Vorona pressed.

Shinra's eyes darted down to her and he raised an eyebrow. "New associates?" He then let out a genuine laugh and said, "Obviously, you didn't work with Shizuo very long. He's not really the type to seek out people."

The doctor's face changed again, this time expressing confusion. It was strange to see someone emote so carelessly. Vorona was so used to living in a world where the slightest reveal of one's true emotion could be deadly, had spent so much of her time carefully disguising her feelings and been around people who did the same, that it felt odd to see someone who just genuinely didn't seem to care whether or not she knew what he was thinking.

"So why is it that you want to find Shizuo?" Shinra asked.

"My current employer is…interested in him."

"Uh huh. Hmmm. Well good luck with that! Sorry I couldn't be more of a help!"

Vorona's frown deepened, unsure what to make of this. Was this man really a friend of Shizuo's? He certainly didn't seem like the type that Heiwajima would associate with. Though, as Shinra had said, there wasn't really a type that Shizuo _did_ seek out. Still…this man seemed more than willing to give out information on Heiwajima, just because she had said she had known him for an unspecified amount of time.

"Why tell me all of this?" Vorona asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "For all you know, I could have been lying to you this entire time."

Shinra shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose you could have. But Shizuo can take care of himself. No offense, but even if you were looking to go after him, I doubt you could take him. Besides, I don't really know enough to be really all that useful, so it seemed rather harmless to tell you what I knew. If I would have refused and you really _were_ lying, then all that would have brought me would have been your frustration and anger, potentially causing you to cause harm to me."

"Wha-?" His explanation made sense, in one way, but did he really not have any loyalty whatsoever? What was going on in this man's head?

"So, do you need a cab or something?" Shinra asked. "I could call one for you if you do!"

"I—no," Vorona replied, still reeling slightly. "I have my own transportation."

"Oh okay! Well, if you find Shizuo, say hi for me and Celty! We haven't seen him in a while, and honestly I feel kind of bad about that."

"I'll make sure to do that," Vorona said quietly as she made her way to the exit. How had this doctor survived so long?

"Stay off that leg!" Shinra said, calling after her even as she walked out of the door, "Especially if you are intending on fighting Shizuo! You'll need all the help you can get!"

Vorona shook her head as she closed the door to the apartment behind her. She didn't have the luxury of waiting around for her leg to heal fully. And she certainly hoped that she did not have to fight Shizuo. But if he was somehow involved in this kidnapping…was he really the person that she had once known?

No. There had to be more to it than that.

But what if there wasn't? What if he had just been hired to do this job? Would she actually have to fight him again?

Could she fight him again?

Vorona pushed the thoughts from her head as she entered the elevator. She needed more information. It was pointless to entertain anything until then. Her next move would be to head to Tom's; if anyone would know if Shizuo was involved in something shady, it would be him. Armed with her new motorcycle and jumpsuit that Kurai had supplied at the rendezvous point, she should be able to move about the city without attracting too much attention to herself.

It was when she was exiting the building that Vorona's phone began to ring. She quickly answered, expecting to here Kurai's voice, as he was the only one who had this number. However, the person that spoke was not Kurai, but the garbled tone of someone using a device to scramble their intonations.

"Hello Vorona."

"Who is this?" she hissed.

"Let's just say I'm a friend," the voice said, "One who is very interested in seeing what comes of all of this. As such, I'm going to give you a helpful nudge in the right direction. Go to 1 Chrome-52 Hikoe, Misato-shi, Saitama Prefecture. I think you find something quite…enlightening there."

As the person spoke, the wheels churned in Vorona's head. Who was this? How had they even gotten this number? It was a burn phone that Kurai had given her. Getting the number should have been close to impossible. And yet, whoever this was had managed it. Which meant they were very well informed.

"What kind of 'something'?"

"Now that would just be telling, wouldn't it?"

What were they playing at? Her mind instantly went to _trap,_ given how vague this caller was being about this. And yet, would someone who had enough connections to find this number really be so obvious? Not likely, but it was still a possibility.

"If you truly want to help, why not just tell me what you already apparently know?"

"The answer," the caller replied, "is that I do not know exactly what answers you will find there. I would go there myself, but honestly, it'll be just as well to send you, as I have other matters that are more pressing at the moment."

"So, you are sending me to do your dirty work."

"Quite the contrary, as I have just provided you a service with no expectation of payment or recompense in return."

Vorona found that highly unlikely, but it was true that they had not asked that she report what she found there. Which meant that they benefitted in some other way. Or they are just being vague, because there is nothing to find there, other than a trap set for her.

"Then why?"

"As I said, I have some vested interest in seeing how the situation you find yourself in plays out. Not much, but some. And while it would be fun to watch you flounder about, not knowing what to do next, I think this way will prove to be even more enjoyable."

"Enjoyable?"

"Indeed," the caller said, "If you only understood what were truly going on, I'm sure even you would find some humor in it all."

"I doubt it."

"Mm, perhaps not."

A pause and then Vorona said, "You still have not answered my first question. Who are you?"

"An unimportant detail. Now if you—"

"The fact you go out of your way both to avoid the question and mask your voice says otherwise."

"Indeed, it does, doesn't it?" the caller said thoughtfully. "But is a concealing not meant for you specifically, but for others who could make my life difficult should my identity in this become common knowledge."

"Your words make it difficult to trust you."

"Maybe you shouldn't." The person laughed, an odd sound given the fact that it was being manipulated. "But I can ensure you, what you find at that address will be well worth the risk. But go quickly. Given your friend's tendency to clean up loose ends, I cannot say how long the opportunity will last."

The line went dead before Vorona could reply.

She considered what had just happened. It was certainly suspicious, at the very least. It could have been whoever was working against Kurai, but if it had been meant as a trap, it had been set up very poorly. If the person who had called really had such resources at their disposal, they certainly could have created a much more effective ruse. Given how secretive Kurai was being, Vorona had no way of knowing what they were going up against in that respect, so she couldn't rule out that possibility entirely. However, there was something about the conversation that made her believe that it was truly a third party that had contacted her. Something had rung with truth in all that had been said, and while the caller had been purposefully hiding their true intentions as well as their identity, they had made no efforts to try and disguise what they had been doing. Vorona knew that trusting them would be going much too far, but disregarding their advice could also be a mistake.

Because this phone call had all but confirmed something for her; that there was much more going on here than just Kurai wanting to kidnap a child. Vorona needed to start unraveling this web quickly, before she became entangled entirely. And, despite her grave misgivings towards the source of the information, going to 1 Chrome-52 Hikoe seemed like her best lead. What other information did she have to go on at this point? She could go to Tom's, but even if Shizuo had let his friend in on what he was doing, Tom might not know where he would be going afterwards. It could turn out to be just as much of a dead end as Shinra had been.

But this, at least, would likely lead her somewhere. Either the caller was telling the truth and she would find something that would, as they had put it, "nudge her in the right direction," or it was a trap. And if it were the latter, then by springing it, Vorona would likely draw in whoever had planted it. Traps could be turned against their creators, and that's exactly what she would try to do. Either way, there was something to be gained by going to the address she had been given.

Tom Tanaka, for the time being, would have to wait.

1 Chome-53 Hikoe, Misato, Saitama. An old townhouse away from the skyscrapers of Ikebukuro and downtown Tokyo, but still very much in the hustle and bustle of the city. It seemed like one could travel for hours in any direction and still not escape the sprawling metropolis. Vorona had spent a decent part of her life in large cities like Tokyo, as contracts would often lead her there. And yet, she still felt a bit unnerved by the pure _size_ of some urban areas; it spoke to how large their world truly was, and, by comparison, how infinitely small each individual life is. It is a revelation that is difficult for one who had spent much of her early life around so few people to comprehend, and not one Vorona liked to dwell upon. But being back in Tokyo, in Ikebukuro, and driving all the way out here and still not leaving it behind, makes it impossible to ignore.

The townhouse was old and seemed to be in a state of slight disrepair. It was quite near the Naka River and Vorona assumed that it was this proximity that at least partially attributed to the damp smell in the neighborhood. The sun had risen several hours earlier, though it just seemed to have started to have an effect, finally warming the cool air. Vorona has been here since then, watching the building carefully over the last several hours, gathering what information she could. According to public records, the house belonged to a Mayumi Nakamo. Doing some research on the owner, Nakamo appeared to work at a nearby restaurant, but there wasn't much else to glean. She seemed to live alone, from what Vorona could tell, and she held a place on a book club at a nearby library, but that was about it. It was a bit curious for a single woman to be living in a house so large all to herself (the townhouse was two stories and had more room

Her time spent watching the house (from the rooftop of the closed clothing shop across the street) had not yielded much else in the way of information. She had barely seen anything of Nakamo, just when the woman had gotten her mail, but nothing seemed out of place in that small exchange. Vorona debated about just breaking in and knocking the woman out, but decided against it. The woman should be heading off to her work soon, and then Vorona would be free to do as she wished.

And while she was still planning to search the home, Vorona couldn't help but feel a bit underwhelmed by what she had found. Was this really the place that her mysterious caller had meant to lead her too, and if so, why? This woman seemed wholly ordinary. What could Vorona possibly gain from her or her home? This whole endeavor was beginning to feel like a waste of time. Maybe she should have gone to Tom Tanaka's after all. But she had already sunk so much time into this. Might as well see it through.

Another hour came and went before the opportunity that Vorona had been waiting for finally arrived. Mayumi Nakamo exited her home, locking the door behind her, and started down the street. Vorona watched the woman go, wondering if perhaps there was more to her than what met the eye. That was certainly a possibility; it could be an explanation of why Nakamo seemed almost _too_ ordinary. And yet, as the woman rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, Vorona did not get a sense that she was anything more than what she made herself out to be. Not that such a feeling was a confirmation of anything, but it was much more likely that Mayumi Nakamo was just herself and nothing more than some sort of cover for something larger.

But now that the woman was gone, Vorona could finally move in. It was just before noon now, and the time wasted staking out the house was really starting to gnaw at her. Who knows what she could have discovered about Shizuo's whereabouts in the time she had spent here? As Vorona clambered down from her hiding place, she could only hope that whatever she would find here was worth it, and the mysterious caller hadn't just sent her off on a wild goose chase.

 _Maybe that had been their goal,_ she thought as she walked across the street. _To waste my time from pursuing my actual objective…_

Looking around and seeing that no one seemed to be watching, Vorona leapt over the chain-link fence surrounding the property. She felt clumsy doing so, having to heavily favor her injured leg, but she managed just the same. She then headed to the backdoor, removing the lockpick from her pocket. Removing herself from the public eye, Vorona could work on the door's lock in relative peace; the chances of being observed here were significantly less than those of the front door. Her hands worked deftly on the simple deadbolt lock, and within seconds, she was in.

The door opened into a modest kitchen. Judging by the small table and the singular chair positioned at it, Nakamo probably lived alone. Which matched both with what she had researched and what she had observed. So hopefully she would be undisturbed in her investigation. Vorona scanned over the kitchen, not finding anything out of the ordinary. The appliances looked to be several decades old and the laminate floor was beginning to chip away at places, but other than being a little out of date, nothing popped out to her. A quick search through the cabinets and refrigerator were equally enlightening; there didn't seem to be enough food her for more than one person.

Vorona moved on from the kitchen, going through the archway leading into the dining room. There she saw the low table that Nakamo likely ate at, once again small. The room was sparsely decorated, with a few paintings of riversides and some framed photos. The framed photos often featured Nakamo with a man. The man must have been Mayumi's late husband. Vorona had found the man's obituary during her research on Mayumi, and it had cited his death having occurred over a decade ago. They were not photos of a candid sort, but rather appeared to be professionally done. Even in these staged photos, however, Vorona felt as if she could get a sense of both their personalities. Mayumi was smiling brightly in all, a look that didn't seem to hold any sort of fabrication or falsity. She genuinely seemed to be enjoying the experience. She looked extravagant and carefree in her yellow dress, as if she might just float away with the sunshine. Her husband (Makoto, if she remembered correctly), while doing his best to appear happy, but it was clear that he felt awkward in this situation. His smile was strained at the corners and his posture was as stiff as his suit. The glasses he wore partially obscured his eyes, which seemed to lack the bliss that played across those of his wife.

Vorona moved away from the dining room, deciding that it too, did not contain much in the way of secrets. She moved into the living room, taking in the sparsely furnished space. This room too, seemed highly ordinary. Frustration began to build. Why had they sent her here? She had been a fool to listen…clearly this had been a distraction…but from what?

As Vorona stepped across the room, debating the possible consequences of her actions, her eyes wandered over the framed photos here. These, unlike the ones in the dining room, contained more than just the likenesses of Mayumi and her late husband. Much more, in fact. These pictured Mayumi and, very occasionally, Makoto, with children of varying ages. At first, she assumed that these children were their children, but as she moved through them, she realized that there were far too many of them, and none of them really seemed to resemble Mayumi or Makoto. Her mind switched gears, moving from frustration and embarrassment to curiosity, and she began to examine the hung photos more carefully.

The children depicted here seemed to range in both ages, from five to fifteen, and race and ethnicity. Some pictures featured older versions of some of the children and there appeared to be thirty or so separate individuals. Judging by the apparent difference of age of Mayumi and Makoto in these photos, all these had been taken over some time. But who were these children and why—

Vorona's thought process was cut short as her eyes lighted upon a singular group photo. Makoto and Mayumi were there, looking a bit older than in some of the pictures, and lined up in front of them were five children. The picture seemed to have been taken at a beach, judging by the dunes in the background. Mayumi, as always, appeared happy and energetic while her husband wore that same strained expression. Four of the children seemed to share in Mayumi's brightness, the youngest boy with jet black hair grinning toothily as an older boy who looked very similar to him gripped him by the shoulder and smiled. On the other side of them were two girls with bright red hair, one of them smiling politely, the other making a wacky expression, their arms over each other's shoulders. But it was the fifth child, who stood in the middle between all of them, that caught Vorona's eye.

This boy too, had black hair like the other boys, but he looked nothing like either of them. And while the crazy-faced girl had her arm wrapped around his shoulder, he did not return the gesture. Nor did he have the same gleeful look upon his face as the other children. No, his expression more closely resembled that of Makoto, that of one who was trying to look like they were enjoying themselves, but they clearly weren't. The boy's face was a well composed one and, despite his messy hair, the style seemed to suit him perfectly. His violet eyes stared out of the picture at her own, and floating in that gaze, a troubled storm hidden under a thin layer of happiness.

Vorona's stomach did a flip as she realized what she was looking at, at where she was. The boy in the photo…

 _Kurai._

There was no doubt in her mind. But what did that mean—?

"That's him, alright," a voice said, coming from behind Vorona.

Vorona spun and turned to see Mayumi standing there in the doorway, a bag of groceries in the old woman's hands. Instantly, Vorona found herself staring down the sight of her pistol at Mayumi, her finger poised to squeeze the trigger. While her leg may have been injured, her reflexes were just as good as ever. However, she had allowed herself to be distracted, and had somehow not noticed the old woman entering the house. A foolish mistake…one that might cost this woman her life.

Despite having a weapon pointed at her, Mayumi Nakamo did not seem phased in the least. Instead, she merely shuffled over to an end table to deposit her groceries, and when that task had been done, she raised an eyebrow at Vorona.

"Well, are you going to shoot me?" she asked. "If so, I'd rather not prolong this. But if not, I would prefer not to have a weapon pointed at me unnecessarily."

Mayumi's nonchalance toward the situation caught Vorona by surprise, but she found herself slowly lowering her weapon.

"Ah, good," Mayumi said, smiling at her. "Now we can speak like civilized people. Would you like some tea?"

"I—" Vorona started, but found that she didn't know what to say. "Are you not surprised?"

Vorona asked the question before really thinking about.

The old woman merely shrugged. "I believed it was only a matter of time before one of Takumi's associates came here. Now given that you chose not to shoot me on sight, I can only assume that you are here to get some sort of information before you do away with me. So, tea? Yes or no?"

After Vorona said nothing, the old woman sighed and said, "Well, I suppose I'll just make some for myself and then you can decide later."

And with that, the old woman shuffled out of the living room and into the hallway, clearly heading for the kitchen. Still not sure what to make of Mayumi, Vorona quickly followed her.

"I believe you may be confused," Vorona said as the two women entered the kitchen, Mayumi grabbing a kettle and filling it with water. "I am no associate of Takumi, nor do I know who that is."

"In that regard, I believe that it is rather _you_ who is confused," the old woman said as she moved the pot over to a stove burner and turned it on. "You are no common thief. You hold yourself much more confidently than that. And given the way that you were staring at that photo, and the fact that I've been somewhat expecting a visit like this for some time, I can only assume that you know Takumi."

Mayumi turned to look at Vorona, leaving the kettle on the stove and inching closer to her. She studied Vorona's face for a moment and then said, almost to herself, "Though, I wonder, are you here on his orders, or have you come on your own volition?"

Vorona said nothing, though she was beginning to piece together a bit of what was going on.

"I suppose it matters not, in the end," Mayumi said, waving her hand. "You'll ask your questions just the same."

"Takumi, he's the middle boy in that photo?"

The old woman nodded gently. "That was Takumi, yes. About ten years old, in that picture, I think. Such a lovely day that was; one of the happiest memories I have, in fact." She paused, smiling a bit wistfully, as if lost in her thoughts.

"And you're his-?"

"Foster mother, yes," Mayumi said. "I'm saddened that the boy never spoke of me. Not surprised, mind you. But still, one can hope…"

She sighed and then a look of puzzlement came across her face. "But if you did not know who I was, then what led you here?"

Vorona once again did not answer, still sliding pieces of information around in her head. The caller had sent her here, to Kurai's old home, in hopes that it would "nudge her in the right direction." Certainly there was something to be gained by learning of her companion's past, and hopefully that something would provide her with the advantage she would need to overcome him. Or, at the very least, point her in the right direction. But why had this woman been expecting a visit, and why was she acting so calm about all of this? It was highly out of the ordinary, which either meant that—

"Ah, I forget myself," Mayumi said, drawing Vorona from her thoughts. "It is you who is to be asking questions of me, not the other way around." She smiled at Vorona and then continued. "So, shall we begin now, or shall we wait for the tea?"

Vorona's silence caused Mayumi to raise an eyebrow. "Not much of a talker, are you? Takumi never was either. Always very secretive, that boy."

"Not much has change in that respect."

Mayumi nodded. "I would expect as much. He came to us like all the other children, but there was something a bit different about him. Even among those children, who were already so special, there was just something about Takumi that set him a bit apart."

"You raised him?"

"Well, from when he was five until about thirteen."

"He was an orphan then?"

"I would assume so. They never told us what exactly happened to the children's parents and most wouldn't want to talk about it. Takumi was, as you might expect, particularly closed mouthed about such things, and I would try to avoid pressuring the kids if they didn't want to."

Vorona paused, deciding where to steer the conversation next. There was certainly something very odd going on here, but she needed more information. "Before, you said that the children were all special. I assume you don't mean that as a mother who believes all her children are 'special' in their own way."

"That's true," Mayumi replied.

"So, how were they special?"

"Well, that was the thing," Mayumi said thoughtfully. "I honestly thought that they all seemed quite like any other children, their gloomy pasts aside. But I suppose they were all quite bright, in their own ways, all very dedicated and driven. Perhaps that's what they saw in them? I cannot say."

"Who's this 'they' you keep mentioning? The ones who brought you the children?"

"Now that," Mayumi said with a small smile, "Would be a question better answered by my poor late husband. He was the one who dealt with them, and only he really knew what was going on. Maybe even he didn't know. As for me, I just adored taking care of the children, and was more than happy to try to give them some happiness, for however fleeting that might be."

"Surely you must know more?" Vorona pressed. "You couldn't have accepted such a life with so little information?"

The old woman's smile turned sad and she nodded at her words. "You would have thought so, wouldn't you? But I was young and naïve, and completely loyal to Makoto. For me, just knowing that I was helping orphaned children was enough. I know now that, if I had truly cared about the children, I should have looked more into their circumstances, because it was clear that this was anything but a normal foster situation. It was, in hindsight, a mistake, and one that I regret dearly."

"And your husband never told you?"

"Well, for one, I never really pushed the issue, so I would not place all the blame on him. And Makoto had always been a reserved man, and man that kept his thoughts to himself. All he said, when we were first deciding whether or not to sign on as foster parents, was that these kids would be 'special cases' that no other homes would take. They'd pay us, and at the time I had assumed that by 'special' he had meant 'troubled,' which only made me wish to help them more. As the years went by, I obviously realized that there was more to this, but at that point, I didn't really care. I was happy to be helping those children, for however short of a time. It was only after he had passed and they had asked me to continue his work that I got a glimpse into what was truly going on."

Vorona opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment, the kettle began to whistle loudly, drawing the attention of the old woman. Mayumi held up a finger politely, a 'hold-that-thought' gesture, and hustled over to the stove.

"So, am I making tea for two then?"

Vorona nodded an affirmative. So, there was certainly something troubled in Kurai's past, something that could maybe help explain how he came to be the way he was. Something that, if exploited correctly, could perhaps lead to his downfall. And if there was anything like that, she would be sure to find it.

Several minutes later, Vorona found herself seated across the dining room table from Mayumi, a steaming cup of tea siting in front of them each of them. Vorana took a sip of hers, letting the minty flavor roll over her tongue before swallowing the warm liquid.

"Do you like the tea? It was always Takumi's favorite."

Vorona nodded, as it was indeed quite good, as far as tea went.

"Good, good," Mayumi said. "I thought you might. Now, back to the task at hand. I'm guessing that Takumi doesn't know that you are here, correct? And that he hasn't told you anything of his past, and that's why you are here?"

"That is mostly accurate."

Mayumi took a sip of her own tea and nodded knowingly. "It seems some things never change. He wouldn't even tell Kalina much, and she was probably the closest thing he ever had to a friend."

"Kalina?"

"She and her sister lived here for a time. Arrived a year or two after him, and they all left together." Mayumi frowned. "But if you don't know her, I can only expect that they've become separated. I always feared that would happen."

"Because?"

"Well, Kalina, and to some lesser extent Devana, were the only two that seemed to have the ability to break through Takumi's shell. They were the only ones that could really get him to truly smile, that actually seemed to understand him, or as well as anyone could understand Takumi. They were good for him, helped him to understand people...because I think that's what he struggled with the most. Maybe you've noticed that. But anyhow, without Kalina, well, I just feel like he would just shrink back into that shell."

"Kalina and Devana; they were the girls in that photograph?"

"Yes," Mayumi said. "Kalina was always so energetic, always bouncing from one thing to the next, so full of life. Devana was a bit more pragmatic, a little more level headed, but she had a good heart and balanced out Kalina's flightiness. Honestly, I'm surprised that Takumi took to them at all, for they were so different. But maybe that's why they got along so well, who can say? I was just grateful that he had finally found someone to connect with, because when he arrived here, I was quite worried about him."

"Because of his antisocial nature?"

"Among other things." Mayumi paused, drinking again. "As I said before, there was something different about him, something more than any of the other children. He was antisocial, yes, but not quite because he couldn't interact with others, but more so because he didn't particularly want to. He had an aloofness about him, an aura of...something. I believe he thought that no one could understand him, and, because of that, he gave up trying. I failed him, in that way. I couldn't understand him, try as I might…"

"And what was it that you couldn't understand?"

"Well, I believe that poor Takumi had something horrible happen to him before he reached me. I cannot think of another explanation for his thought processes. He'd always ask such deep questions, about the strangest of topics, and I had no idea how to relate to them. He was so curious about life and death, about the purpose of humans, both as a species and as individuals. These topics were over my head and, honestly, a little frightening to hear from one so young. I think he maybe sensed that, or perhaps my answers to his questions dissatisfied him. At any rate, he slowly stopped asking, keeping to himself. I foolishly told myself that he had grown out of them, but really there was just nothing I could offer him. I tried to give him the things that a normal mother would provide, but that's not what poor Takumi needed at that point in his life. I realized that much too late."

Vorona nodded solemnly, allowing the woman to air her griefs. She likely had never had this opportunity, and if it would keep her talking, then Vorona would be more than happy to be the recipient of whatever was on her mind. However, she wanted to steer the conversation back to a question she had asked before, but had not yet been answered.

"I think I understand," Vorona said. "But I would still like to know who these people that brought you the children were."

"Ah, yes," Mayumi said with a sigh. "Well, as I said before, I am not wholly sure, but I can tell you what I know. These people, they seemed to be part of some organization. Maybe government, but not Japanese. They seemed American to me, if I had to guess. Always two men showed up at our door, whether when dropping a child off or to take one away. They wore suits and ties, their faces always blank. Makoto was always the one who spoke with them, and I only conversed with them once, after Makoto had died. They wanted me to take over for Makoto, but I had to decline."

"Why?" Vorona asked. "What did they want you to do?"

"It seemed that these children were part of some sort of 'training program.' They were sent to our home, both for what they called "reconditioning" and to learn. Apparently Makoto had been teaching them different skills…skills that we had learned during our time in the military."

"Military?" Vorona asked. "I didn't find anything about that in your records."

"No, I suspect you wouldn't," Mayumi said. "They made sure to erase anything of interest about us after I refused their offer to take Makoto's place."

"And you didn't know about this? What Makoto had been doing?"

"I—no," she said, once again frowning. "Or rather, I ignored the signs. I could tell something was wrong, but I didn't want to have our perfect life overturned. After everything that we had done in the military…I just wanted to have our happily ever after." Mayumi paused, regret clearly starting to take its toll.

"But, I digress, somewhat," she continued. "From what I could tell, these people were taking orphans and putting them through some sort of combat training, but for what purpose, I had no idea. At that point, I had been a wreck, my grief at my husband's passing on top of the fact that he had been keeping something like this from me this whole time stopping me from truly thinking through the situation. So I refused, of course, not wanting to put children into the same situations that still haunted my dreams every night. That, and I was angry, and both anger and kindness blinded me. And so they took the children that we had living with us at the time and disappeared. That pushed me over the edge, and I grieved for a long time. Eventually, I pulled myself together, but by then I had accepted that there was nothing I could do, and so here I've been. Waiting, I suppose, for this very conversation."

Vorona eyed Mayumi carefully. "You've said multiple times that you've been expecting this to happen for some time now. That you thought that Takumi would try to kill you, or someone else to do so. Why?"

Mayumi smiled sadly. "Well, because that was the last thing that he told me, as those men dragged him and Kalina and Devana off into their vehicle while I just watched. He told me that he'd kill me for what I'd done, and with Takumi, I had no doubt that he would fulfill his promise."

"What you had done? But what was that?"

Mayumi shrugged. "A multitude of different things, I suppose. Most of which lay in my failure to be the only thing I wanted to be for him; a mother. I pushed him away when he frightened me, instead of embracing him and helping to work through his feelings. I ignored whatever it was that Makoto had been putting him and the other children through. And then, when the time came for me to make a stand for my children, to stop those men from taking them, I just let them go. He screamed it at me as they shoved him into the car as I watched from street, and from that day on, I knew how I was going to die."

That seemed a bit dramatic, but the woman seemed so sincerely convinced of the truth in that statement. It seemed odd to Vorona, so she asked, "How could you be so convinced that a thirteen-year-old boy would fulfill such a threat?"

"Well, we both know Takumi. He doesn't say anything lightly. That, and because I knew that he had been the one responsible for Makoto's death."

This revelation left Vorona a bit dumbfounded. How could that be true? Based on all that Mayumi had said, surely this could not be true? She spoke of Kurai in such a bittersweet manner, but if he had truly killed her husband…

"You seem a bit confused, dear."

"I am. You say he killed your husband, and yet you still speak of him fondly?"

At this Mayumi smiled. "Indeed, I do. How could I not? He was a brilliant boy, if a bit misunderstood, and my son."

"But—"

"Makoto death, I've come to realize, was just as much his own fault, and my own, as it was poor Takumi's. A lesson I wish I would have learned earlier, for maybe I would have stopped those men from taking him and the other children. But I let my anger make that decision."

"I don't understand."

At this, Mayumi laughed lightly. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. It took me years to come to terms with what happened, with the actions of my husband, of myself, and those of Takumi. And I suppose some of that comes from a mother's perspective. Something, if I were to guess, you lack?"

Vorona didn't say anything, still trying to understand this woman. Despite their mistakes, neither she nor her husband had killed anyone. But Kurai, at just thirteen, had done so, and had threatened to do so again. How could she see him as anything but what he was?

"I'll take your silence as a yes," Mayumi said, still smiling. "Well, perhaps when you have children of your own, it will make more sense. But I hope this story does not change your opinion of dear Takumi. Don't look down upon him for what he did, don't fear him, or hate him. That's what I did, and it only drove him further down his dark path. What Takumi needs is someone who will listen, someone who stop and try to understand. Because, like all humans, he just wants to be understood."

 _Unless he isn't human,_ Vorona thought to herself.

"Maybe you can succeed where I failed," the old woman continued. "Learn from my mistakes. Help Takumi in a way that I couldn't, if I may be so bold to ask."

 _He's a monster,_ Vorona thought. _How could I ever understand him? He doesn't deserve my help…_

And yet, she could not help but sympathize with the poor old woman who sat before her. A woman so lost in her grief and regret that she had spent years just waiting for the day for her adopted son to kill her. A life that Kurai had destroyed, as this woman had misplaced his failures as her own. Her anger towards her companion grew, another piece of fuel to add to the fire that was already raging.

But Vorona couldn't tell this woman all this. Mayumi had clearly deluded herself and Vorona could tell that telling her so would do no good. The least she could do would be tell the old woman what she wanted to hear, for she would never know the outcome. Perhaps Vorona's words could bring her some semblance of peace.

"I shall do my best," Vorona said, unfolding her legs and standing.

"That is all that I can ask," Mayumi replied, following suit and standing herself. "You seem very similar, you and Takumi. I'm sure you can succeed. Or perhaps you can find Kalina…maybe together the two of you could…"

But then she stopped and shook her head. "Look at me, trying to tell you what to do, as if it is any of my business any more. I apologize for my audacity."

"No apology is necessary," Vorona said. This woman was truly broken, blaming herself for any and everything. "But I really should get on my way."

Mayumi nodded and seemed content to let Vorona leave. However, she had not taken two steps towards the door when the old woman suddenly exclaimed, "Wait! I almost forgot!"

Vorona stopped in her tracks as the woman scrambled over to her.

"There was something that could maybe help you, something that I found when I was looking through Makoto's things. You stay right here while I get it for you."

And with that, the old woman shuffled away, heading up the stairs, which creaked loudly as she ascended. Vorona debated about just leaving; she seemed to have exhausted the woman of all information, and while the information on Kurai's past had been enlightening, she wasn't sure how she could quite put such information to an advantage against yet. But she waited, and for her patience, she was rewarded.

For when Mayumi returned, in her hand, she held a curious looking pin. Mayumi placed the pin in Vorona's hand and said, "I found this among Makoto's things, in an envelope that we used to receive our money in. I can only assume that that organization had given it to him…maybe it's their symbol or something? I don't know, I couldn't find anything on it. Maybe it's nothing, or maybe it's not. I just thought it could be of some help."

Vorona turned the gold-plated pin over in her hand. It seemed to be seal of some sort, a shield with laurels around it, the shield split into four sections. Despite the tiny size, she could make out intricately carved objects within each section. The top left section was dedicated to a glowing cross and the top right contained a hammer and a stake. Directly below that in the lower right section was a hand smothering a serpent, and the lower left corner depicted a gallows. Vorona had never seen such a symbol before, but just holding the pin in her hand, a rush of excitement pumped through her veins. If she could just get this identified—

"Thank you," Vorona said, her appreciation quite genuine. This pin was perhaps the most useful thing Mayumi had provided. It was certainly a lead to investigate.

"Of course," Mayumi said, bowing her head. "Good luck."

Vorona nodded and made her way out of the building, turning the pin over in her hand. It seemed highly likely that, as Mayumi had suggested, this pin was indeed the crest of the mysterious organization that had been training Kurai for…whatever it their goal had been. If she could discover more about this organization, perhaps she could then learn her companion's true goals, or better understand his motivations. And then something else occurred to her. Maybe Kurai was not acting on his own volition, but for this organization. Maybe he wanted to recruit Akane the same way he had been recruited?

While all she could do at this point was postulate, it was exciting nonetheless. Finally, things were starting to make sense. Finally, she could begin to turn the tables on her companion and enemy. And she'd make that monster pay for all that he had done.

She wasn't sure how she was going to have this pin identified, but given it's shady nature, Vorona had a hunch that she could find what she was looking for in Ikebukuro. There, information was just as valuable as money or weapons, and one could find anything if they just knew where to look.

But first, Vorona wanted to follow up on something else. Despite her excitement at the potential of this pin, there was something else that seemed even more important, something that had refused to shake free from her mind, even after discovering this new information. The fact remained that Shizuo Heiwajima was somehow involved in all this and she desperately wanted to know why.

So when Vorona revved the engines of her motorcycle and zoomed off down the street, her plotted course was not to the seedier locations of Ikebukuro in search of an information broker, but to Tom Tanaka's, where hopefully she could discover the answer to the question that burnt more brightly than the rest.


	14. Chapter 14: What Happened At Tom's Place

"So, let me get this straight," Tom said, rubbing his temples. "You got some coded message from your brother telling you to meet him at Rakuei Gym. But when you get there, Kasuka isn't anywhere to be found. Then someone who looked exactly like you kidnapped a gang-leader's daughter and sped off in an unmarked vehicle. And now you think that both the Awakusu and the police are after you? And because they're after you, they'll probably be coming for me too?"

Shizuo nodded, taking a bite of the sushi that his friend had provided. They were in Tom's kitchen, Tom leaning up against his refrigerator, hand to his forehead as he recounted the main points of what Shizuo had just told him, and Shizuo sitting on a countertop, eating sushi. After realizing that, if the Awakusu or the police were going to try and find him, they would likely give Tom a "visit," Shizuo knew that his first stop would have to be his friend's apartment. Whether he liked it or not, Tom had, by association, been dragged into this whole thing as well. A price he paid for being Shizuo's only friend, one that he was likely regretting at this moment.

"You forgot the part about Vorona," Shizuo noted between bites, eyeing his friend carefully.

"Oh yes, how could I have forgotten!" Tom said, exasperation leaking into his voice. "And our dear Russian vixen is somehow involved as well." He threw up his hands in a dramatic manner, shaking his head, his dreadlocks bouncing back and forth as he did so. Shizuo raised an eyebrow at his friend but said nothing.

"How is it that you are always getting yourself into these situations?" Tom asked, his hand once again return to his forehead.

Shizuo shrugged. "Hell if I know."

Tom sighed and rolled his eyes. "What a very Shizuo Heiwajima-esque answer."

Shizuo didn't answer, swallowing the last of the sushi and snatching out his pack of cigarettes. He picked one out and slipped it in his mouth, sliding the pack back into his pocket and grabbing the lighter next to it.

"You know how bad those are for you, right?" Tom said.

"I think you've told me once or twice."

"And yet, you still don't listen."

"I think I've got bigger problems right now."

"Maybe," Tom conceded, "Still, that's not helping anything. And I think you mean _we've_ got bigger problems."

Shizuo lit up the cigarette and eyed his friend. "No. I'm going to help you get out of here to somewhere that you can lay low or—"

"Mmm, not really an option," Tom said. "Where am I going to go that the Awakusu won't be able to find me? Besides, hiding away for weeks on end sounds terrible. And without me here to help you out, by the time I came back, half of Ikebukuro would likely be rubble."

"Tom, you don't need to do this."

"Well, I kind of do," Tom said. "Made that choice a long time ago. Kind of too late to back out now."

Shizuo frowned. Once again, he was getting Tom into more trouble. "You didn't do anything to deserve this."

"By the sounds of things, neither did you. You've helped me out plenty of times over the years. Time for me to return the favor. What kind of person leaves their friend high and dry in their time of need?" Tom cocked a sly grin. "Like it or not Heiwajima, you're stuck with me."

Shizuo looked at his friend and could tell that there would be no dissuading the man. As he had said, like it or not, Tom had decided to stay and help in anyway he could. And while part of him still felt guilty for bringing Tom into this, he also felt a bit better about his situation. It was good to know that someone would have his back in all of this, that there would be at least one person he could trust. And Tom knew a bit more about the seedy underbelly of Ikebukuro, so perhaps he knew someone who could help them find Vorona…

"Alright fine," Shizuo said, not showing how glad he was that Tom had decided to help.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Tom said, smirking. "Besides, I've been looking for a chance to show off my new moves."

Shizuo rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smiling. Truly, he didn't deserve to have a friend like Tom.

"So, now that that's all been decided, what's next?" Tom said, his face growing more serious. "Or is that a 'hell if I know' situation as well?"

"Actually, I have an idea," Shizuo started. However, before he could continue, his world suddenly exploded into a cacophony of sound and light. The loud expulsions of a handgun unloading its deadly ammunition, glass shattering and scattering, the crunching thump of a door being knocked off its hinges followed by more gunshots. Flashes of bright white light blasted from the living room window and the doorway to the apartment. Shizuo instantly moved down, reaching out and grabbing Tom, bringing him below the counter with him. Wood splinters burst from the edges of the counter and Shizuo knew that their cover would not last long.

"Really hope this wasn't the idea!" Tom yelled over the gunfire, putting his hands over his head as bullets blasted past them and embedded into the far wall of the kitchen.

 _Come on…_ Shizuo thought, waiting for the moment that he knew was coming. Hopefully the counter could eat enough lead until then…

The sound of gunfire halved and Shizuo moved quickly. He kicked out with a leg, connecting with the refrigerator that Tom had been leaning up against just moments before. The appliance screeched sideways and Shizuo rolled in behind it. Several bullets pinged into the fridge, but a resounding _click click_ told him that now was the time to strike. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the refrigerator and, with a yell of anger, he launched it towards the window. The woman who had been stationed there peeped out from below the window sill, prepared to unload another clip into the room. However, she clearly was not prepared to see a large kitchen appliance flying toward her and could only open her mouth in shock as the projectile found its target.

Shizuo quickly bound across the room, moving the short distance from the kitchen into the connected living room, angling toward front door. Sliding down as he got close, he gripped the fallen door just as a man with a submachine gun returned to the doorway. His weapon reloaded, the man turned it toward Shizuo, standing mere feet away. The finger of his opponent contracted, but Shizuo had been expecting all of this. He slammed the door back up to its normal position, catching the gun arm of his attacker in between the wall and the door. The sound of cracking bones was soon followed by screams of pain and the release of two bullets before the weapon clattered to ground. Luckily, Shizuo's attack and changed the angle of his opponent's weapon and he found himself unharmed. Releasing the door and allowing it to fall back to the ground with a heavy thump, he slipped quickly onto the balcony outside Tom's apartment.

There he found two men, one agonizing over his crippled arm, the other looking at his comrade in shock before turning his attention to the new presence. The man raised his pistol, but much too slowly, only giving Shizuo something to grab onto more easily. He twisted the man's wristed until there was a snap followed by the sound of metal on concrete as the gun his opponent held fell to the ground. Reinforcing his grip on the man's arm, Shizuo grunted as he swung the man into his crying companion. Both were sent colliding into the wall and they slumped into an unconscious pile.

Satisfied that they would not be causing any more trouble, Shizuo turned in search of new targets. He was not disappointed, as two more men turned the corner. Apparently the woman in the window had some friends. Shizuo quickly jumped forward, charging them. This seemed to surprise one of the men, who stumbled backwards as Shizuo leaped a distance that should have been impossible. The other, however, was less fazed by this action and leveled his handgun. Two shots rang out, but Shizuo assumed that both missed, as his movement hardly felt impeded. He reached the man and leveled a fist into his jaw, instantly knocking him out cold. His partner finally seemed to recover, but it was much too late. A swift kick to the side knocked the air of the man's lungs, likely breaking several ribs in the process. A quick follow up punch to the face finished him.

"Dammit," Shizuo muttered to himself, taking in the carnage around him. He had been right to assume that Tom was in danger. Or had it only been because he had come here in the first place?

"I think you owe me a new refrigerator," Tom said, who was looking over the railing of the balcony, where three stories below lay the remains of the appliance. The woman that it had hit lay unconscious at Tom's feet, moaning in pain.

"Looks fine to me," Shizuo said, glancing over the railing himself.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Hardly." Then he turned his attention down to the would-be attacker at his feet, stroking his chin. "But who were they?"

Shizuo shrugged. "Awakusu maybe? More likely just some local gangster they paid to check you out. Likely weren't expecting me to be here."

"Obviously," Tom agreed. "Would have sent more men with bigger guns if they had been."

"Or they're just stupid."

"That could certainly be—"

But Tom was cut off midsentence as a gunshot rang out in the night. The woman at Tom's feet, who, apparently had not been as unconscious as Shizou had thought, had turned her pistol towards his friend and fired. Tom stumbled back as a bullet ripped through his suit, cutting through his right shoulder. The woman took aim again and Shizuo knew that, by the time he could stop her, she would unleash another round at Tom.

And even as Shizuo stooped down to try and save his friend, another gunshot sounded. However, this one did not come from the woman's weapon, but rather from directly behind Shizuo. The woman's head burst right before his eyes as the bullet found its mark.

"Or maybe they were just the distraction," a voice behind Shizuo said. It was a woman's voice, the Japanese fluent but heavily accented. It sounded strangely familiar, and yet, not quite something he could place. The clicking sound of a hammer being pulled back sounded just behind him, an obvious signal saying _try anything and you're dead._ How she had managed to sneak up on them, he couldn't be sure, but he'd be willing to guess that she had been trained in some way, unlike the thugs he had just taken out. She had saved Tom, but her motivation for doing so certainly didn't seem be out of the goodness of her own heart.

 _Dammit,_ Shizuo thought to himself, resisting the urge to just spin around and land a fist in the face of whoever was holding a gun on him. If it had just been him, maybe he could have gotten the jump on whoever it was that had joined them on the balcony. But with Tom here, it wasn't a risk he could take. Not yet, at least.

"Now, you're going to tell me where the girl is," the woman said.

"I don't know where she is," Shizuo growled.

"My sources say otherwise."

"You need better sources then."

"Maybe," the woman said, "Yet to be determined. But you're awfully cocky for someone with a gun pointed at the back of their head."

Shizuo shrugged, "Been in worse situations. Plus, I don't have what you want."

This seemed to give the woman pause. "I see. Do you have an explanation for why the Awakusu and half of Ikebukuro seem to think otherwise?"

"I have a doppelganger of sorts," Shizuo replied, his mind still running through his options. "Not sure why they picked me to impersonate, but I can assure you, I fully intend on finding out."

"Unless you die here."

"Not gonna happen."

"That overconfidence in your strength will get you into trouble," the woman said. "It can only get you so far."

"It's not overconfidence," Shizuo growled, "I just refuse to lose a fight to someone like you."

"Refusal is hardly factor in determining an outcome," the woman replied. "But luckily for you, I have no intention on fighting."

"The gun certainly seems to suggest otherwise."

"A precaution," the woman said. "One that I can see was unnecessary. I actually came here with the intention of working with you, not against you."

"You have a strange way of showing it," Tom said, jumping into the conversation, squeezing the words through the pain he was clearly feeling. Shizuo could tell that, by the expression on his friend's face, they were no longer in an immediate danger. While he was clearly still apprehensive, Tom understood these situations well enough to know when he could jump in and push when needed.

Taking the cue from Tom, Shizou dared to turn to look at the person he was conversing with. The woman standing there was dressed in a dark jumpsuit, nearly blending in with the black of the night. Her face was sharp and angular, attractive but without a forgiving curved feature. Red straight hair fell past her shoulders, a sharp contrast to her pale face and colorless, grey eyes. In one hand she gripped a silver-plated handgun, though it was held neutral at her side.

"As I said," the woman said, looking to Tom, "I was taking precautions. Besides, I should think you would be more grateful to someone who had just saved your life."

"Not that I don't appreciate the gesture," Tom replied through gritted teeth, "but forgive me if I don't quite trust someone who was just threatening my friend."

"Fair enough," the woman said, sliding the pistol in its holster at her hip. "Though now that I know you haven't taken Akane, I'm sure that you'll find that we are both on the same side here."

"Rather trusting of you, to believe my story," Shizuo said, stepping back into the conversation. "A little too trusting."

She raised an eyebrow. "If I had some sort of ulterior motive, it would have been better served by shooting you in the head now, rather than dragging you along and then doing away with you later, don't you think? I have good reason to trust you. While your brother vouched for your innocence, I of course couldn't possibly take it just at his word without investigating myself. However, after speaking with you, I can tell that you speak the truth. Which is excellent news, because you both will be much better allies than enemies."

"Wait," Shizuo said, his brow furrowing. "You know Kasuka?"

The woman nodded. "Indeed, I do. And, like you, I wish to help him. You see, I work for the man who has trapped poor Kasuka in a very difficult situation. I've been assigned as one of Kasuka's…caretakers, and as I learned his situation, I realized we could help each other. Perhaps you've heard of my employer, Seitarou Yagiri?"

Shizuo frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place why. "Perhaps, though I'm not sure who he is."

"A shady businessman who deals in the exotic and extravagant," the woman said. "In particular, he has taken interest in acquiring that which belongs to the realm of the supernatural. In addition to obtaining artifacts and objects, he has been attempting to take in people that he believes have some sort of connection to this world, or are part of it themselves."

"Then what does this have to do with Kasuka?"

"Not him specifically, but rather his girlfriend, Ruri," the woman says. "Yagiri believes her to be only part human, and part…something else. He had her kidnapped, but, given her place in the public spotlight, he has been blackmailing Kasuka into keeping her missing status a secret. He has been telling everyone that she is merely under the weather and will continue to do so until the excuse starts to crack, at which point Yagiri hopes to have gotten what he wants."

"And if he hasn't?"

The woman shrugged. "I'm not sure. But we're not going to let it get that far."

"On that, at least, we can agree," Shizuo said carefully. "But I'm still unsure what all this has to do with Akane's kidnapping, or why you've decided to help us."

"Akane was another one of Yagiri's targets," the woman said. "I thought we could put a dent in Yagiri's operations by halting his attempt to capture her, so I had Kasuka contact you. I thought maybe if I sent you there, you could stop whatever it was that Yagiri had planned without exposing myself as a traitor. But it seems that someone else wanted her and beat him to the punch. And you were less than successful in stopping that attempt, even if it wasn't Yagiri behind it."

"Wait, so it _wasn't_ Yagiri who had her kidnapped?" Tom asked.

"No," the woman replied. "He's quite irate about the whole thing. He was the one that sent me here to find Akane. I was more than happy to accept the assignment, as it fit with my own plans quite nicely. But there must be a third party involved, someone else who knew what Yagiri was planning. Someone who wanted Akane for themselves."

"And do you have any idea as to who that might be?" Shizuo asked, his thoughts now moving to a certain blonde-haired assassin. Was she involved with this third party?

"Unfortunately, no," the woman said, frowning. "Which means that we should focus on finding her first. At least I know where Ruri is, and while Yagiri is hardly a gracious host, he'll keep her alive for now. We can't necessarily say the same for Akane. Now that you are on our side, I can start planning how we are going to break Ruri out, but it'll take some time. Time that we can spend finding and rescuing Akane."

"Fine, makes sense," Shizuo said. "But you keep avoiding one thing: why the sudden change in allegiance? Why help Kasuka? Why go through all this?"

The woman sighed and looked out across the balcony into the night sky. For once, she didn't seem to have an answer ready at hand.

"I was more than happy to help him acquire his silly trinkets," she said, still looking away, "but when he started taking people, claiming that they were 'monsters' and such nonsense, I couldn't abide by that. No matter how good the paycheck was. Hit a little to close to home for me, plus it showed me how crazy Yagiri truly is. I've had my fill of crazy employers in the past and I've learned to cut ties as quickly as possible."

"So," Shizuo said, trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice but failing, "you're telling me you are doing this purely out of the goodness of your own heart?"

The woman gave a _hrmph_ and turned back to Shizuo. "Hardly. Yagiri has made plenty of enemies. I'm sure _one_ of them will pay handsomely for his head. Like I said, its best to get out of a crazy relationship while you still can. My goal in taking down Yagiri just coincides with Kasuka's and yours."

"I see," Shizuo said, eyeing the woman carefully. "So, you propose that we find my impersonator, get Akane back and safe, then take on Yagiri and free Ruri and my brother?"

"Yes, precisely," the woman said. "Once Akane is safe, not only do we have to not worry about her, but it should also get the Awakusu off your back. It'll be much easier to take on Yagiri without having thugs like these coming at us at every turn." She gestures vaguely to the dead woman at Shizuo's feet.

"So, they were Awakusu then?" Tom asked, glancing briefly down at the body before averting his gaze.

"No, but the Awakusu did send them," the woman said. "Should have known better and sent their own people. Or maybe it was smarter this way, as we would have likely taken out any of their own men they would have sent." She shrugs. "Regardless, the Awakusu are looking for you both, and the search should only intensify after this little incident. Which only gives us another reason to start our own search for Akane as quickly as possible."

Shizuo nodded. He wasn't sure how he felt about this woman. Her origins and motivations could certainly be fabricated, but he couldn't see what she could gain from doing so. If she really was still working for Yagiri, why wouldn't she have just shot him when she had the chance? Her story fit with what he knew, which, granted, wasn't much. But still, given the situation, he didn't really have much of choice in the matter. This woman would be his key to puzzle, either as an ally, or, if she really was still working for Yagiri, he would use her to get to him. At any rate, they both seemed to have a similar goal, at least for now. Find Akane. And he supposed it was time for him to reveal his single lead in all of this.

"I think I know somewhere we can start," Shizuo said. He thought he saw Tom's eyebrows raise out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. He wasn't trusting this woman, per say, but it seemed working with her was their best option at this point.

"Really?" the woman asked, sounding genuinely surprised by this.

"When Akane was kidnapped, in addition to my doppelganger, there was someone else I recognized there," Shizuo said. "A woman by the name of Vorona. She's a, well," and he fumbled over his words, looking for the right way to describe her. A hired gun? An assassin? But she was more than that, he'd seen that during her time in Ikebukuro. But there was also so much that he didn't know about her, so much that he didn't know about her motivations. Would she really have tried to kidnap Akane? She had done it once before, he knew, but that Vorona was so different than the one he had come to know…right? Or maybe that was really who she was, just an assassin for hire, working for the highest bidder. Maybe she had just fooled him into thinking otherwise…

"Let's just say she knows her way around a handgun," Tom said. "And a sniper rifle. And a knife. And really any weapon."

"So a mercenary," the woman said, nodding at this. "Someone that our kidnappers could have hired as muscle or back-up."

"Maybe," Shizuo said, finding his way back from his thoughts. "Or she might have been trying to stop them. But either way, she certainly seemed to know what was going on. So, if we find her—"

"—we could find our kidnappers," the woman finished, nodding. "Or, at the very least, she should be able to tell us who we are going after."

Shizuo nodded an affirmative.

"Excellent," the woman said. "Then let's find this Vorona. She seems like our best lead, at least for now. Do you have any idea of how we might go about this?"

"I've got a friend that could help us search," Shizuo said. "She's a Transporter, so maybe she's heard something. If not, she'll still help us look."

"And I can allocate some of Yagiri's resources into searching for her as well." Upon seeing Shizuo's expression at this, the woman added, "They will of course all report to me, nor will they know what they are truly looking for. I'll tell them that she is the owner of some artifact that Yagiri wants."

While Shizuo still didn't like the thought of this Yagiri's men looking for Vorona, he realized that they needed to use every resource at their disposal. And if Yagiri had connections to some sort of supernatural black market, then maybe they might turn up something on the kidnappers, Vorona, or Akane, if the kidnappers believed that Akane too was some sort of supernatural being. The idea was laughable because, while he was more than aware of the strange world that lay beneath the surface of their modern society, the idea that little Akane had anything to do with it was clearly some sort of misinformation. She might be the daughter of a mob-boss, but that was were the extraordinary ended, at least in the superficial sense. The fact that some freaks had gotten it into their heads that she was something less than human, something to be captured and then God knows what afterwards, frankly pissed him off. And the fact that they had used him as a scapegoat only made things worse. He wanted to find these people and make them regret every decision they had made. Even if that meant working with some less than savory types to do it. He would deal with them later.

"Fine, do it," Shizuo said. "Tom and I will head to my friend's apartment. Her roommate can patch him up and she'll let us lay low there while we search for Vorona."

"If this Transporter will let us use her apartment as a home base of sorts, then all the more reason to bring her onboard," the woman said. "You're sure she can be trusted?"

At this, Shizuo almost laughed. "I trust her a hell of a lot more than I trust you."

The woman shrugged. "Works for me." She paused and then drew a set of keys out of her pocket. "I'll drive you there. Much safer than walking the streets, especially at night."

"I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt it," she replied, "but I think your friend there could use the medical attention as soon as possible."

"I'm fine," Tom said, though it was clear that, as the adrenaline of the moment had begun to wear thin as the conversation had progressed, Tom's wound was becoming increasingly painful for him. He now gripped the bleeding shoulder with a hand and a grimace had taken a permanent place on his face.

"Fine, we'll take the ride," Shizuo said, giving his friend a quick _it's okay_ look. Tom conceded and didn't push the topic any further, resigning himself to clenching at his bleeding wound.

"A good choice," the woman said, and then gestured for them to follow her. She then spun around and headed for the stairs leading down from the balcony.

"You sure about this?" Tom whispered as they allowed the woman to take some distance from them before following.

"Not really," Shizuo replied.

Tom sighed. "You really know how to inspire confidence, you know that?"

"Maybe I should become a motivational speaker."

"Now that," Tom said, a tinge of humor coming through the pain, "I would pay to see."

The continued towards the stairs, following the woman down to the pavement below and then onto the street. She scanned the area carefully, and, when she was apparently satisfied by what she saw, she gestured for them to continue after her.

"Look," Shizuo said as they walked down the street, "I'm sorry I got you mixed up in all this."

Tom tried shrugging, but the gesture only caused him to wince in pain. "Well, I'll say this. Life's rarely boring with you around. Though next time, it's your turn to take the bullet."

"Noted."

The group continued in silence until they reached an unmarked black car parked on the side of the street. The woman unlocked the doors and then stooped to let herself in. However, she stopped short and then turned to Shizuo, looking him directly in the eye with those dark, stormy grey eyes. He couldn't get anything from them, but he had no doubt that she was able to read his own like a book. That was fine; he had nothing to hide. But did she?

"I suppose if we are going to be working together, I should at least introduce myself," the woman said abruptly. She stuck out her hand in Shizuo's direction, and while it appeared small and petite, he had no doubt that it could squeeze the life out of a person's windpipe in a matter of seconds.

"I'm Hinoka," she said. "Hinoka Watanabe."

Shizuo took the hand and quickly realized that his evaluation had been correct. There was a power behind that grip, a power that had been trained and harnessed against her fellow human beings. Someone like that couldn't be truly trusted, could they? But then his thoughts drifted to Vorona and he realized that he had felt the same power in her hands as he felt in Hinoka's. And he felt he could trust her…or at least there had been a time that he could have. But that had been over a year ago…perhaps things had changed. Perhaps giving Vorona that same trust now would be foolish…

But that was something to deal with later. Something to handle when he finally caught up with her. For now, he needed to focus on finding her part, a task that would likely prove to be quite difficult.

And while he pulled himself into the car, Shizuo debated about how much trust would be safe to put in his newest ally. Judging a book by its cover, at least in the past, had not always served him well. Just because she was a killer didn't mean that he shouldn't trust her. But there was one thing that he knew he couldn't trust, one thing that she hadn't, despite all her likely training, been able to disguise.

This woman's name, her true name, wasn't Hinoka Watanabe. Out of everything she had said that evening, that one thing had rung false. There had been something about the way she had said it, the way that it had tumbled from her lips in the way one would introduce a relative stranger, rather than a name that one had used their whole lives. He couldn't place how he knew that, nor did he know why she had not given her true name. But there was certainly something more to Hinoka Watanabe than she was letting on. Whether that went any deeper than her name, he was sure to find out. But until he did, Shizuo would have to keep his guard up around her.

He glanced over at the woman as she turned the keys forward in the ignition, the car's engine rumbling to life at the motion. Her red hair covered half of her face from this angle, but the bit he could see was guarded, but focused. And in those grey eyes, Shizuo could make out one thing for certain; there was an intensity there that he only saw in the most driven of individuals. This Hinoka Watanabe was, at the very least, intent on achieving her goals.

"Where to?" she asked, her grey eyes now focusing upon him.

Shizuo gave her the address to Celty and Shinra's apartment, which Hinoka quickly put into her phone before lighting into the accelerator and zooming off down the street.

 _Who are you really, Hinoka Watanabe?_ Shizuo thought as his gaze turned to the street in front of them. _And what is it that you really want?_


	15. Chapter 15: Piece 15

_Dammit._

Vorona cursed under her breath as she tiptoed over the broken glass that had scattered across Tom's living room floor. She made her way back to the door, her search of the apartment complete. As she had suspected, there was no one left here. Well, no one conscious at least. There were the forms of several thugs outside on the balcony, all knocked out cold. The fools.

She stepped out of the apartment, eyeing the two men in a pile nearby, making sure that they were still unconscious. A quick glance told her that they were. With that confirmed, Vorona looked along the outer wall of the apartment building and it wasn't long before she spotted what she was looking for. With a bit of a frustrated sigh, she went back into Tom' apartment, retrieved a stool, and brought back out with her. Placing the stool underneath the security camera, Vorona clambered up and started to work on the machine.

Shizuo had been here. The fallen refrigerator and the collapsed door were evidence enough of that. The fact that most of the assailants were unconscious, not dead, also pointed to Heiwajima. And, judging that these men were all still knocked out and no one had come to check up on them yet, or the noise they had made meant that she had just missed him. They couldn't have left but twenty minutes ago, if the police weren't even here yet.

Which of course meant that, if she hadn't taken her detour, she would have found him. The very thought of it was beyond frustrating. She had been _this_ close to catching up with Shizuo, _this_ close to finding out how the man fit into all of this. But now he was gone again, and unless she could turn up something here, she'd be back at square one.

She removed the chip from the security camera and pocketed it. Perhaps it would hold some answers, though any information she could glean from it would likely be cursory at best. Vorona stepped down from the stool and then turned her attention to the unconscious gangsters. She wasn't sure how long it would be until the police arrived, but her time was likely limited. She'd have to do this quickly.

Moving over to one of the unconscious forms, Vorona propped him up into a sitting position against the wall and then took the strong smelling salts from her pocket. Waving them underneath the man's nose, he slowly came to, his nose wrinkling and his eyes fluttering open. Vorona made sure to clamp a hand over the man's mouth, leveling her pistol at his temple with the other. As the thug started to take in his situation, his eyes widened and he struggled for a moment against her grip. A strong press of the gun to his temple quickly ended his squirming, his entire body stiffening at the feel of cold metal.

"I will ask questions," Vorona said, "and you will give answers. Understand?"

The man nodded as vigorously as he could and Vorona removed her hand from his mouth. However, she kept the pistol at his head, a reminder that she was in charge here and any misstep on his part would end poorly for him.

"Good," Vorona said. "You were sent here to kill Shizuo Heiwajima, yes?"

"Uh-well, kind of."

"Explain."

"Well, we were set to rough up Tanaka, see if he knew anything about the Awakusu girl," the thug said through clenched teeth. "Weren't told that Heiwajima might be here." He shook his head and grimaced in pain. It appeared that his arm was bent in an odd direction, the wrist swelling up to a ridiculous size. It appeared that the thug too, was beginning to take in what shape he was in. Hopefully she could get enough out of him before he started to go into shock.

"When we found out he was here, idiots thought we could take him. The price on his head was twenty times what we were getting paid for Tanaka."

"And who was paying you?" Vorona pressed.

"The goddamned Awakusu, if you can believe it," the man said, his words becoming heavily labored. "Looks like Heiwajima's bit off more than he can chew this time. Freak's days are numbered now…"

Vorona frowned at this. So the Awakusu were after Shizuo after all. Hardly surprising, but potentially problematic.

"Do you know where he and Tanaka went?"

"How the hell would I know that? I look like I was in a state to be making those kinds of observations?" the man said, growing agitated as his analysis of his arm seemed to reach a less than optimal conclusion.

"Just answer the questions," Vorona said coolly, pressing the barrel of the gun to his head, as it seemed the thug needed a reminder. "Did he have the girl?"

"The Awakusu girl? Not that I saw," the man said.

"Are you sure?"

The man gave a small shrug, wincing at the movement. "Could've had her somewhere in the apartment, I suppose. But I didn't see her."

Vorona took this information with a grain of salt. He could have dropped her off at any variety of locations before coming to Tom's. Just because she wasn't here didn't mean that Shizuo was off the hook by any means. In fact, it would be more disturbing if it turned out Akane wasn't with him here; it would likely mean that he had given her over to whoever he had been working for.

She shook her head. It was odd to think like that, the actions so incongruent with the Shizuo Heiwajima she knew.

"Very well," Vorona said. "I thank you for the information."

And with that, she brought he pistol back and whipped it forward, hitting the man in the back of the skull. He tipped forward and then slid to his side, unconscious once more. And while he would likely have a nice bump on the back of his head to match his mangled arm when he woke up in a jail cell, he would at least still wake up there. An improvement over the alternative and Vorona was sure the thug would agree.

In the distance, police sirens blared, and Vorona knew her time here had come to an end. After making sure that she hadn't left behind any evidence of her visit here, she took the stairs down to ground level and lifted herself onto her bike with a little effort. Her leg was still bothering her, but it was beginning to regain some of its mobility and the pain, while still constant, had lost some of its edge. The bike roared to life and Vorona pressed the throttle forward, launching her out of the alleyway next to Tom's apartment building and onto the streets of Ikebukuro.

Once again, she silently cursed herself. The visit to Kurai's childhood home had cost her…which made her wonder; had that been intentional? Had her mysterious caller meant to distract her from her search from Shizuo? And if so, why? Who had that caller been?

Vorona sped up as she merged onto the highway, heading to one of Kurai's safehouses, the one designated as Rendezvous Point Three. She could regroup there, check out the security camera footage, and decide where to go from there. She may have lost Shizuo Heiwajima's trail momentarily, but it would only be just that, momentarily. She _would_ find him, of that much she was certain.

Unlocking the security camera footage had been simple enough. Finding what she had been looking for proved to be equally simple, and infinitely more rewarding than she could have hoped.

Vorona had been expecting to just see Shizuo and Tom just leave the scene, perhaps with Akane in their company. But something infinitely more interesting had been on the tapes. She had watched Shizuo take out the gangsters with ease, and while she was merely watching the fight through the lens of a low-quality video with no sound, she could still feel the pure power behind each of his attacks, the absolute strength on display. It was something to behold, something wholly otherworldly. And yet, in a way, it was strangely familiar, almost comforting in a way. This Shizuo, despite the pixelated and monochrome tone, felt much more real than the one she had seen days earlier at Rakuei Gym. This was the Shizuo she remembered; a reckless but effective flurry of power and might, willing to put himself on the line to protect his friend. It was an odd feeling, one that she had to consciously shrug aside.

But it was the latter half of the encounter that proved to be more revealing. For, once the initial group of thugs had been taken out, another individual had arrived on the scene. While their back had initially been to the camera, Vorona could easily identify her as a woman, and judging by the way she walked, the posture with which she held herself, this woman was no common thug. No…whoever she was, this newcomer was much more dangerous than that.

Then she had disappeared around the corner, out of the view of the camera. And then, after several minutes, she returned, this time in the company of Shizuo and Tom. Tom had been wounded, it seemed, but otherwise they appeared to be fine. Tom's expression, given what she could make out from the blurry images, was one of general pain, but he didn't appear to be worried in anyway. Shizuo had his normal disgruntled look on his face, though he seemed to be mulling over something. And Vorona had seen the face of the woman for the first time, one whose features were sharp, laser-focused, and closed off. And strangely enough, they seemed vaguely familiar, though Vorona could not place why. Regardless, they did not seem to hold any aggression towards each other, and, even if the woman had been with the thugs (which Vorona doubted), apparently she and the other two had come to some sort of agreement. And then, they had all gotten into a car on the very edge of the camera's frame, which had then pulled away and left the frame. About ten minutes later, Vorona had watched herself arrive, and then the video stopped when she had removed the card from the camera.

And while the discovery of Shizuo and Tom's companion was interesting and a potential lead to follow up on, there was something much more concrete that she could look into, rather than the blurry image of some unknown woman. For she had the license plate of the car that they had all left in. And while she lacked the computer skills to enhance the plate numbers into something readable or to gain access to the systems that could tell her who the plate belonged to, she had no doubt that Kurai had the resources to get it done.

So Vorona had alerted her companion of her latest discovery, which was why he was now looking over her shoulder at the same video footage she been spilling over for the last hour. Out of the corner of her eye, she tried to observe his expression, tried to read his reaction to what he was seeing here. But, as always, Kurai was adeptly hiding any real response the footage might have provoked, his face blank as he watched Shizuo work his way through the thugs.

"This Shizuo Heiwajima," Kurai said, "he is a formidable fighter. The stories don't seem to do him justice."

He turned to look at her, his eyebrow raised. Looking for some sort of response.

Vorona shrugged. "He is the strongest opponent I have ever faced. He lacks refinement, but his pure strength and determination more than make up for a lack of formal training."

"So it would seem," Kurai said thoughtfully. "After all, he bested you, did he not?"

"Indeed."

"Something, I'm sure, that you didn't just let go of," her companion noted. "Something that you would have wanted to have corrected. I assume that you spent much of your time with him trying to determine how exactly he might be defeated."

Vorona frowned. "Perhaps."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what conclusions did you come to?" Kurai asked. "How best might one defeat Shizuo Heiwajima? Clearly not by sending witless gangsters armed with mere handguns." He gestured to the screen as Shizuo flung one of his assailants into a wall.

"What does it matter to you?" Vorona replied, perhaps a bit too quickly.

Kurai raised an eyebrow and a smile started to curl across his lips. "Well, that seems quite obvious, dear Vorona, no? He is our opponent, is preventing us from liberating our sister, and, as such, it would seem to stand that we might have to defeat him in battle in order to obtain our goals. And while it may be satisfactory to allow you to avenge your previous loss, we might not have such an opportunity." His smile grew wider. "Thus, should I be the one that must fight Mr. Heiwajima, I feel that I should be as prepared as possible."

He paused, looking Vorona in the eye. "So?"

Another one of his games, she realized. Fine. But why, she still could not understand. What did he hope to gain from prodding her like this all the time?

"He does not have many," Vorona said. "In addition to his strength, he also does not seem to feel pain. An asset during battle, except when it isn't. He might not know when he's pushed his body too far. He is also quick to anger, which could be used against him. However, he does not let it blind him entirely, so relying on that would be foolhardy."

"Is that all?"

Vorona's frown deepened. "Yes."

She turned her attention to the computer monitor, watching the mystery woman turn the corner, disappearing like Shizuo had just a minute earlier.

"Hmm." Kurai tapped his fingers along the back of her chair, sending a chill down her spine. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was looking at her, not at the computer screen. Analyzing her, reading every pore and slight twitch in her face. Looking for anything that might reveal the truth. She started scrubbing through the footage, perhaps hoping that the sudden change in speed would draw his attention away from her. But his gaze remained locked on her, a gaze that made her increasingly uncomfortable as each moment passed.

And she could tell by that response that he didn't believe her.

But before she could dwell on it any further, her companion's fingers suddenly stopped their incessant tapping, instead freezing solid behind her. Vorona could sense Kurai's entire body tense up, an involuntary reaction that he was too slow to correct. One that, while it was only there for a moment, Vorona had noticed before he could hide it. And she had no doubt what had caused it.

For the mystery woman, quickly followed by Tom and Shizuo, had just appeared on the monitor. Vorona had slowed the video back to its normal playback speed and Kurai had instantly reacted to the presence of the woman on the feed. Kurai was on his heels and Vorona knew that she had to capitalize on this.

"Do you know her?" she asked, though it was clearly phrased more as a statement than a question. The implied question was _who is she?_

Surprisingly, Kurai's smile only widened.

"Yes," he said, his eyes still on the monitor. "And she has made a grievous mistake by revealing herself."

Vorona looked to Kurai, who was grinning from ear to ear. There was excitement on his face, and beneath that, something…primal. Something that Vorona could not place, but it was something she did not like.

"Who is she?"

"Last time we met, she was going by the name of Victoria Anderson," Kurai said, "but I should assume that she has changed that. She's changed her hair color, at least. And she's had something done to her nose. But she forgets who it is that she hunts. I'll know her anywhere, and nothing she does to change her physical appearance will change that."

His voice had changed. Not the normal controlled, smooth and calculated charisma, but a more intense, almost passionate tone. It was distinctly _real_ , not something designed to be pleasing to others' ears.

"She's hunting you?" Vorona asked. She had thought that the license plate would be the most revealing part of this session, but suddenly that seemed pale in comparison.

Kurai nodded, though he seemed to be only half listening to Vorona's words. "I thought it might have been her that had foiled our plans. Infinitely persistent. However, she may not be behind the kidnapping. She is more of a follower than a leader. Perhaps she did not even know I am involved."

"But you think she's involved in Akane's kidnapping?"

"I have no doubt in my mind," Kurai replied, his smile stretching almost inhumanly wide. "Though if that is true, I fear for our young Akane's safety. We must move swiftly if we are to recover her."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that your friend Heiwajima has teamed up with a heartless killer," Kurai said. "Someone who has committed self-righteous genocide. I have no doubt that the woman in this recording would kill poor Akane without a second thought, as she likely knows the truth about our dear sister, much like you and I. Hunting beings like us is her specialty. However, I do not believe all hope is lost. For she is likely on someone else's leash, trying to eek out the only existence available to someone with her past."

"She's not actively searching for you then?"

"Ours is a war of great lengths. She is, no doubt, always trying to hunt me. But hunting a shinigami is expensive work, one that requires her to use her skills in other ways to fulfill her true goal."

"And why is it that she hunts you with such fervor?"

Kurai's smile darkened and his eyes lowered from the monitor for a moment. But then he was back in control, his smile once again hopping back to his lips.

"I cannot be certain, but it likely is two-fold. One, is that she feels duty-bound to her dead order's codes and creeds. Codes and creeds that demand the extinguishing of our kind, and others like us. Two, is that, she has insatiable lust for destruction of others. However, unlike you or I, by which death is to bring order, hers is wholly unnatural and will only bring chaos."

His voice lowered and once again lost the façade it normally held. "For she is a mere human whose worst attributes were forced out by others, while all others were destroyed. She is a decrepit creature, driven by things she does not understand, living out a pointless and destructive existence."

Vorona let the words slide over her, the description of this woman's life sounding familiar in her ears. Because, while Kurai was talking about his enemy, Vorona could not help but draw connections to her own life. But she needed to keep Kurai talking, because he was clearly in a sharing mood, one that likely wouldn't last.

"If she lives such a tortured life," Vorona said, "and causes you such problems, why not just use your powers to end her?"

At this, Kurai chuckled.

"That," he said, "is an answer that is, once again, two-fold. One, is that my powers as a shinigami do not allow me just kill whomever I like whenever I wish to, as I believe I've noted before." He paused, watching as Shizuo, Tom, and the woman reached the vehicle at the end of the street. "Two, is that she very much deserves whatever torturous existence she lives."

And with that, Vorona knew that this wasn't just some faceless foe that Kurai had battled over the years. No, this was personal for him. How, she could not say, but pushing any further than this would likely be a mistake on her part. Kurai seemed content to leave it at that, and, for better or for worse, Vorona would have to be content with that as well.

Instead, she decided to change topics slightly.

"You can't expect me to understand how your abilities function if you never explain them to me," Vorona said.

"I suppose that's true," Kurai said thoughtfully. "And it would only be natural for you to know."

While Vorona was not convinced that Kurai actually had the abilities that he spoke of, it was clear that _he_ believed that he did. And understanding what he believed he could do and what he couldn't do could be key to defeating the man.

"But that is a subject for a different time," Kurai said, reaching over her and pausing the video. "For now, I shall take this video and see if I can't find out who this car belongs to. Likely her employer or a contact of some sort. Either way, they should be able to help us find her, and, eventually, Akane."

He ejected the chip and pocketed it. "Stay here for now. Heal. I shall contact you when I've found something."

And with that, Kurai turned heel and exited the small apartment, leaving Vorona alone. She had learned more from that recording than she had expected to, but now all she could do was sit on that information and wait for Kurai.

Or perhaps not.

While she might not currently be using the name, Vorona could try to look into this Victoria Anderson, see if she couldn't come up with something. Because even if she understood her relationship to Kurai, that didn't explain why Shizuo had decided to join up with her.

He'd helped this woman kidnap a child and seemed willing to continue to work with her. That was the explanation that kept presenting itself to her, one that she had been vehemently disregarding. But to keep doing so, when all the facts pointed otherwise, was foolish, potentially dangerous. She needed to accept the possibility that perhaps the Shizuo she had known was no longer the same, or perhaps she'd been wrong about him all along. She needed to prepare herself for that possibility.

Because while she desperately wanted to discover Shizuo Heiwajima's place in all this, Vorona conceded that she had only wanted to discover one specific answer; that her old companion had not done any of this of his own free will, or that it had been some sort of mix-up, or that there was some sort of good explanation for what had been going on. She'd let her personal feelings obstruct the things she'd seen with her own eyes, blinded herself to a very real possibility.

She needed to refocus her goals. One, Vorona knew that she needed to save Sloan, for it was her fault that her companion had been caught up in all this. Two, if at all possible, save Akane, for she seemed an innocent piece in this game. Three, get out alive herself.

And if Shizuo Heiwajima stood in her way from achieving any of those goals, then she would have to be prepared to remove him as an obstacle.


	16. Chapter 16: Another Mysterious Caller

"She's not really going to go in there, is she?"

Shizuo sighed and shifted on the sofa. His eyes, which had been staring blankly out the window, shifted to the television. He saw the young blonde woman in a darkened hallway, her hand slowly reaching towards an ominous door handle. Her hand trembled as it stretched for it. It cut to her face, where an expression of overacted fear was pasted. Then back to her trembling hand. Then back to her face. Then hand. Then face.

Shizuo yawned.

"Are you serious? She's actually going to do it…"

Tom, seated in the nearby chair, was leaning forward, his eyes glued to the TV. His arm was still in a sling, though Shinra had said that his wound was healing nicely and he wouldn't need it much longer. Which was just about the only good news Shizuo had received over the last week.

Shizuo turned his gaze back to the window, staring out into multicolored lights of the Ikebukuro nightscape. There was a click from the TV, followed by a long creaking sound. Shizuo could sense his friend tensing up.

He did his best to stifle another yawn.

An exaggerated scream suddenly erupted from the television, and Shizuo could see Tom jolt backwards out of the corner of his eye.

"Ugh, I knew it!" Tom lamented, throwing his one good arm up in the air. "Why the hell would she do that?"

Shizuo shrugged, giving the barest minimum response to what he assumed was a mostly rhetorical question. They'd been watching B-horror movies almost every night and Shizuo had learned that his friend expected some sort of reaction from him, but it didn't need to be much. So long as he gave the smallest appearance of paying attention, Tom would be satisfied.

He looked out into the city, the multitude of lights shining bright against the dark of night. Somewhere out there, he knew, were people that needed his help. Kasuka, Ruri, Akane. He wondered what his brother was doing right now, if he was wondering why his brother had betrayed him or if Hinoka had managed to explain the situation to him. He wondered what sort of horrors Ruri and Akane could be suffering at the hands of their captors, but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. All they did was make him angry, and he hardly needed any more of that. The frustration of having to sit around Shinra and Celty's apartment had already set him on the brink.

It had been Hinoka's idea, to have Shizuo lay low here while she and Celty searched for leads. She had said he would draw far too much attention if he went out into the city now. A sentiment that, unfortunately, had been backed by both Celty and Tom. And, he supposed, on some level, he understood. Needlessly drawing police and Awakusu to them would create additional problems to deal with. So he had grudgingly accepted their judgement and subjected himself to hiding.

But it had been a week since they had arrived at Celty's apartment and no progress had been made. Shizuo's doppelganger and Akane had seemingly disappeared. Ruri had been moved to a location unknown to Hinoka, for purposes she could not determine, but was fairly certain were not good. And Vorona had vanished. In a week's time, they had gained any ground. In fact, they had likely lost some. For each minute that they remained missing, the chances of finding them dwindled. It was increasingly frustrating to have Celty and Hinoka return empty handed day after day, and this frustration was two-fold. One, because he could not do anything himself, and two, because he had his doubts about those doing the searching in his stead.

Or, more specifically, Hinoka. Celty, he was certain, was doing everything in her power to help him. But he still knew so little about this other woman, her motivations. Why was she _really_ helping them? What did she stand to gain? Was it truly because she just had a change of heart, as she had said? He doubted that; people rarely partook in such selfless acts. At the very least, they usually stood to gain something by helping others.

Or was she even helping them at all? She certainly hadn't turned up any useful information, and as far as Shizuo could see, the only concrete thing Hinoka had accomplished had been sidelining him. Perhaps that had been her true goal all along, to keep him out of the way. And he had just agreed to it. Had spent the last week doing nothing. More than enough time for any of their targets to disappear.

 _Dammit…_

"Hey, you okay?"

Shizuo dragged himself from his thoughts. Tom had turned his attention away from the television and was now looking at him with a concerned expression on his face. Shizuo suddenly realized that he had been gripping the edges of the sofa rather tightly, stretching the material at the seams, almost ripping it apart. He quickly released his grip and the fabric tried to slide back to its original form, though it just turned to a lumpy, malformed iteration of it.

"I'm fine."

He silently cursed himself as he looked at the damage he had caused the poor couch, trying to ignore the raised eyebrow he was getting from Tom.

"I think that couch would say otherwise."

"It's nothing," Shizuo growled. "Just sick of sitting around here all day."

Tom nodded. "Yeah, I know it's rough. But we don't really have much of a choice. And until Celty or Hinoka find something worth investigating, it doesn't pay for you to go running around Ikebukuro drawing attention to yourself. Half the neighborhood is looking for you."

All things he had heard a hundred times before. The logic behind it was starting to wear thin.

"Well, maybe that's exactly what we need," Shizuo said. "Draw them out. That's got to be better than chasing shadows."

"Just give them a little more time," Tom said, frowning. "I'm sure that they're—"

Just then, the door to the apartment opened. Shizuo sat up quickly, eyes bouncing over to Celty as she entered the room. The Dullahan was clothed in her normal black jumpsuit and had her yellow motorcycle helmet propped upon her neck, hiding the fact that she was missing her head. A jolt went through Shizuo; perhaps this time she had found something. But his excitement was quickly dulled as he looked at her. He had gotten fairly good at reading her body language and he didn't need her to type anything on her PDA to understand that once again she had come up empty. This didn't stop her from doing so, walking across the room and delivering the news with a few quick strokes on the device she used to communicate. Shizuo could sense the remorse in those words, could see that she too was feeling defeated.

But at least she knew that she had tried. He couldn't even have that small bit of satisfaction.

Shizuo gave her a brief nod of understanding. Celty stared at him for a long while, maybe trying to read him, maybe trying to think of something that she could say that would make him feel better. But she seemed to find nothing to say, as she merely reached out and touched him on the shoulder comfortingly before standing. She typed something quickly and then turned the screen to both Shizuo and Tom.

"I've got a Transporter job I need to take care of this evening, but I'll be back in the morning and I can start searching again."

"Good luck," Tom said, giving her a small smile, which she returned with an appreciative nod. And then she turned to head towards the bedroom, where Shinra was conducting some sort of research. Shizuo wasn't sure what exactly he was doing, but it was likely better that way, if he knew Shinra. So he returned to his brooding, for that was all he seemed to be good for at the moment.

Of course she hadn't found anything. Every day that went by, there was less of a chance that she would turn up any useful leads. For all he knew, Vorona and Akane could have left Tokoyo a week ago, could be halfway across the world by now. Maybe it was time to admit that the trail had gone cold. And if that were true, they would need to start thinking about their next move. He couldn't clear his name, but there was still something he could do about Kasuka.

Hinoka had insisted from the beginning that outright attacking Yagiri would be foolish, at least at this point. They had no idea where he was keeping Ruri and until Hinoka could figure that out, they would be potentially putting her in danger if they went after him. She also said that Yagiri was far too entrenched in his positions for an assault of his facilities to be anything but suicidal. According to her, the way to defeat Yagiri was twofold; one, discover Ruri's location, and two, hit him where it hurt: his money. If they bid their time, waited for him to sink his money and resources into another operation to obtain more artifacts for his obsessive collecting, and then foiled said attempts, they could start to wear him down. They just had to wait for said opportunities to crop up, and, given her high position within Yagiri's organization, she would know when they did.

Supposedly. This was, of course, all if she even was who she claimed to be, and Shizuo's doubts about that grew by the day. She had, at the very least, lied about her name. He was certain of that. At first, he dismissed it as paranoia, but now he grew increasingly certain of it. And if she had lied about that, who knew what else she could be hiding from them.

Even if Hinoka was telling the truth about everything, they didn't have time to sit around and wait. This much had become clear over the last week. This couldn't turn into a war of attrition. Not while Ruri remained in the hands of someone as unpredictable as this Yagiri. If he thought she was some sort of supernatural creature, who knew what he would do to her? Each passing minute was possibly subjecting her to something horrible.

And here he was, watching terrible movies on TV.

Something had to change. They couldn't keep going on like this. Hinoka was no closer to finding Ruri as she was to finding Akane or Vorona. Her plan had failed, and the next time she showed up at the apartment, he would let her know that. Or maybe he shouldn't even wait until then…

Tom yawned as the television switched to a commercial, the movie coming to its end. He glanced over to Shizuo, gave him what he assumed was to be a reassuring smile and said, "Well, I think that about does it for me. I'm off to bed."

"Night."

Tom nodded and then disappeared into the guest bedroom, leaving Shizuo alone in the living room. Shizuo sighed and sat up on the couch.

 _Should I go now?_

But he didn't even know where to start. Hinoka had been slightly vague with her information, now that he thought about it. He knew nothing of where Yagiri's facilities would be, didn't even know what his company's name was. He would be essentially starting from scratch, with just a name to go off of. Still, wouldn't that be better than just sitting around this apartment doing nothing?

Another fifteen minutes went by, and Celty and Shinra left, the former giving him a small wave of farewell and the latter offering up a big smile. He wasn't sure where Shinra was going, but, once again, he was probably better off not knowing. Time dragged on, the clock on the wall ticking slowly. An hour slipped by, and then another. He turned the lights off and tried to sleep but found that he couldn't. Too many possibilities were running through his mind, too many half-plans about what he was going to do. Round and round he went.

It was then that his phone rang.

Shizuo plucked the device from his pocket and examined the screen as it vibrated in his hand. An unknown number. For a moment, he debated about whether or not to answer, but his curiosity got the better of him. Who would be calling him, at this time of night? Surely not some telemarketer…

"Hello?"

"Ah, good, you picked up," a garbled voice said. It was clearly being manipulated. "I wasn't sure if you would, given your…circumstances."

Shizuo's eyes narrowed. Who the hell was this? Clearly, they didn't want him to know.

"How'd you get this number?" Shizuo growled.

"I have my ways," the voice said. "I can get most anything I want. Obtaining the phone number for the most wanted man in Tokyo was child's play."

"Don't suppose you're going to tell me who you are."

An odd sounding laugh came across the line. "No, no. Of course not. That would spoil all the fun."

"I beg to differ."

"I think if you knew what I did, you're tune might change, Shizuo Heiwajima." The voice paused, filtered static filling Shizuo's ears before it continued. "But that brings me to the purpose of this call. Because I wish to let you in on something that I know, something that I'm sure you will find infinitely interesting. A juicy little bit of information, one that I am graciously providing to you free of charge."

"How nice," Shizuo said. Nothing ever came free, especially important information. "You intend on actually telling me at some point?"

"Now, now," the voice scolded, "I'm providing you a service out of the kindness of my own heart. I should think that you would be more appreciative."

"Let's just say I'm a skeptical person," Shizuo said. "Getting to the point would make me less so."

"Ah very well," the voice said with a sigh. "No flair for the dramatic I see, nor do you seem to possess the proper etiquette on how to treat someone who merely wishes to help you. How…disappointing. But I suppose I shall indulge you now, for, despite your lack of manners, this is information that will prove to be quite enlightening. You see, I have come across an interesting tidbit of information regarding the location of one Ruri Hijiribe."

The name caused Shizuo to stiffen. No…what were the odds? Surely this couldn't be true? The information he had been looking for, suddenly at his feet? It wasn't possible…this person had to be lying, had to know that he was looking for her. This was a trap of some sort, surely.

"You're not helping your case," Shizuo growled. "Unless you actually have something to say, say it now, otherwise I'm hanging up."

"Now, that, dear Shizuo, would be a mistake," the voice said. "Without me, you'll never find her."

No, no, no. This was too big of a coincidence. There was something sinister here. He couldn't listen to anymore of this rambling. Someone was trying to lure him out and had picked the easiest target they could find. Was it the Awakusu? Or the police? Were they tracking this call right now, perhaps? Dammit. If they were tracking this they would probably already have him; he should hang up now.

But the last words that had been spoken stuck with him. What if this caller was right, what if this really was his only chance at finding Ruri? And if he hung up now, would what would he be dooming her to? How could he face Kasuka, knowing that he had possibly let her slip through his fingers? Their search was going nowhere. This was an opportunity that he couldn't pass up.

 _Dammit…_

"Fine," he conceded, making up his mind. "But you need to tell me what you want."

"As I said before, I don't want any—"

"Cut the bullshit," Shizuo growled. "What. Do. You. Want?"

"You're playing a dangerous game here, Shizuo Heiwajima," the garbled voice said. Even through the alterations, Shizuo could tell that the tone of the caller's voice had suddenly turned sour. "Piss me off and you won't get your information. You can't bully your way through this one. I have all the cards."

"Wrong," Shizuo replied. "You need something from me. We both know it. So, stop with the charades and just tell me what it is."

"You truly are an idiot, aren't you?" the voice said, all semblance of niceties gone. "Is your hubris truly that large, or are you just really so near-sighted?"

"And yet, here you are, still talking to me, when you could have easily hung up by now," Shizuo said. He couldn't help but let a bit of satisfaction slip into his voice. He had this person, whoever they were, on their heels. A small victory, perhaps, but one that hopefully sent a message. "Which means you need something from me just as badly as I need this information, if not more so."

"One of these days, your foolishness will be the end of you, Shizuo Heiwajima," The voice paused, deliberated for a second, and then continued. "However, for the time being, I suppose I can try to satisfy your curiosity. You see, I have a vested interest in seeing how all of this plays out, and for now that interest is benefited by supplying you the location of Ruri Hirijibe. I'm afraid I cannot be any more specific than that, given that our goals may not align in the future. She is being held in the old Yagiri Pharmaceuticals labs, on one of the lower levels. She is set to be transferred again, this time out of Japan entirely. I would move quickly, if I were you."

Yagiri Pharmaceuticals? The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Perhaps that was why the name Yagiri had seemed familiar when Hinoka had mentioned it? Shizuo frowned.

"Tick tock, Shizuo," the voice said, and then the line went dead.

What the hell was he to make of that? Whoever they were, their motivations were extremely suspect at best. Could he possibly trust information from such a source? Or, on the opposite hand, could he afford to not investigate this? If Ruri really was being moved again, this could be his last chance.

And when he put it that way, the decision was made.

Shizuo sprang up from the couch, moving into action. He tried calling Celty, but she didn't pick up her phone. It would have been impossible for her to communicate, but he could have told he immediately about his lead. A text message would have to suffice. Hopefully she could meet him there. If not, he was more than used to working alone. He debated contacting Hinoka, but he quickly decided against it. She had been nothing short of suspicious at best, and he couldn't risk putting his trust in her now. Shizuo also wondered if he should let Tom know what he was doing, but knew that his friend would merely try to convince him to not to do this. And he couldn't afford to be convinced out of this. Ruri and Kasuka needed him.

His next move was to shed his look. Half of Ikebukuro would recognize him just from a glance, and he couldn't risk that. And while it would be a bit time consuming, it was better than the alternative. He quickly found a pair of scissors and began to snip away locks of his unruly hair. He'd need to dye it too; he could find some on his way to Yagiri Pharmaceuticals. Even with the haircut, his bleached blonde hair would still draw attention. After snipping off a significant portion of his hair, he quickly moved to Shinra's room and looted through his closet, looking for some clothes. After searching around a multitude of lab coats, he managed to find a rather nondescript black sweater and a pair of jeans. It would have to do. He quickly stripped out of his normal attire, pausing to look at his now discarded bartender's uniform. Kasuka had gotten it for him, all those years ago. And now, it had almost become part of him, part of his identity. To remove it felt like a defeat, in a way. They had forced him to abandon part of himself. Someone else had taken part of him and used it against him.

Well, he would make certain they would pay for that.

Shizuo folded his sunglasses and stowed them away in one of the jeans' pockets, and then turned to look at himself in the mirror. Even though he still had the blonde hair, he barely recognized himself. He was hardly one who cared what he looked like (his messy hair and his dedication to wearing the same style of uniform day after day were testaments to that) but the change was still a bit alarming. But Shizuo quickly shrugged it off. In fact, it was a good thing. Especially once he had dyed his hair, he hopefully wouldn't draw any attention, especially at night.

Finding the old Yagiri Pharmaceuticals complex was easy enough; a quick Internet search and he had located the building in question.

He was ready.

A nagging that this was all insane, that he was acting brashly, that he shouldn't just take the word of an unknown caller and bet his life on it, was constant throughout all of this, but Shizuo did his best to ignore it. Maybe it was crazy, maybe it was foolish. But he couldn't sit around here any longer, just waiting for something to happen to him. No, he was done waiting. It was time to act.

Shizuo Heiwajima was back in the game.

Which was extremely unfortunate for all those who would stand in his way.


	17. Chapter 17: Point of Convergence

Most abandoned buildings did not have armed guards patrolling their grounds. For what would they have to guard? And who would be paying them wander around at night for no reason? Given that logical reasoning, and judging by the pair of men armed with handguns moving about the outskirts of the grounds, it seemed safe to say that the Yagiri Pharmaceuticals facility was less abandoned than it had made itself out to be. And while employing security certainly sent the message that one should stay away, there was an additional clause that could be added to said message. That there was something worth guarding here.

"Confirmation of security forces," Vorona whispered, "Looks like your intel was good."

"You doubted it?" Kurai said, his smooth voice echoing from the earpiece.

"No," Vorona replied, tracking one of the guards with her binoculars from a safe distance. They seemed to be following a very regimented patrol route, which would make sneaking past them relatively easy. It had clearly been designed to try to cover all gaps in line of sight, but it was three in the morning and the guards were starting to get sloppy. "I had hoped that you were wrong. Yagiri is a piece of work."

"You put it lightly," Kurai said in her ear. "He's truly a monster, and a cowardly one at that."

Rich words coming from him, Vorona thought to herself as she continued to analyze the guards' patrol patterns. But it did put some perspective on just how bad Seitarou Yagiri was. At least Kurai did his own dirty work. Yagiri just hired people like herself to do it.

The fact that she had once worked for the man sickened Vorona. Granted, she hadn't really known what had been going on at the time, but still, she had gone through the act of kidnapping an innocent girl. Strangely enough, the same girl that she was now trying to rescue. Though "rescue" in this situation could easily be construed as "kidnap" or "capture" and probably more accurately describe the situation. And, like back then, Vorona really had no true idea what was going on. Despite everything that had happened since then, she was right back in the same place. Nothing, it seemed, had really changed. Maybe it couldn't. She'd tried, hadn't she? And despite that…

"We can each take out a guard," Kurai said, "And then we can—"

"No," Vorona said, "We leave them. They'll know something's up if the guards don't check in."

The was a pause and Vorona wondered if she had overstepped her bounds. For someone who prided themselves on being cleverer than everyone else, she was certain that Kurai didn't like to be second-guessed. But she realized didn't care. Not only did the guards not deserve to die, what she had said was true.

"You have a better plan then, I assume?" Kurai said, his tone seemingly cooperative but she could sense the tinge of anger beneath it.

"The guards are getting tired," Vorona said, "Symptom of boredom. They're not professionals, just hired thugs from the area, I would assume. The patrol routes are solid, but they are just going through the motions at this point. We can use the highly patterned routes against them. There's a point where the coverage is spread thin when the guards are on opposite sides of the width of the building. If they were paying attention, they would have the entirety of the grounds covered, just barely. But they aren't. We use that to our advantage. Looking at the blueprints, it looks like we could skirt along the building next to it, keeping out of their line of sight for as long as possible, and then rush across and enter through a side door."

"Fine," Kurai replied after pausing for a short time to consider what she had suggested. "That seems like solid plan of action. Move into position."

Vorona gave an affirmation and moved into a standing position, placing the binoculars on her belt, replacing it with a pistol in her hand as she moved to descend from the apartment building's roof that she had been stationed at. She moved quickly, though there was still a slight limp from her injured leg. It had healed over the past week, but she really should have received more medical attention than the small bit that Shinra had been able to administer. That, on top of the fact that she had put it through some strenuous situations after she had injured it, had resulted in a less than perfect recovery. It still caused her a slight pain anytime she put too much weight on it, though this she had just come to accept and barely noticed it anymore. Vorona had wondered if the leg would ever be returned back to full functionality, but it was a thought she couldn't really afford much consideration. It didn't really matter; she had a job to do regardless and what was done was done. There was nothing she could do about it anymore; she'd have to live with the mistakes she had made, live with scars they had left and move forward.

And that was something Vorona was all too accustomed to.

As she decided down the empty stairwell of the apartment building, Vorona checked through the blueprints of the old Yagiri Pharmaceuticals facility on her phone. She wasn't sure how Kurai had acquired them, but then, she didn't know how he gained any of his information. Like how he had discovered that the vehicle in the security footage from Tom's apartment was registered to one of Yagiri's cover businesses. Or how he had discovered that Yagiri had been making bold investments in the Ikebukuro black market as of late, moves that could potentially anger dangerous key players unless Yagiri had some sort of ace up his sleeve. Or how Kurai had found out that Yagiri had suddenly devoted a significant amount of his resources to the old Yagiri Pharmaceuticals building, including the transfer of a particularly suspicious sounding package labeled as "Subject 001." But she had learned best to not ask any more; the best way to get Kurai to reveal his secrets was to let him do the revelations at his own pace. Press him with questions and he would disregard her with a patronizing smile or stubbornly refuse to part with such information. However, with a subtle amount of faked awe paired with a disinterest meant to disguise the former, she found that her companion would suddenly become much more talkative about his methods. Feed his ego slightly, and he couldn't help but divulge on his methods, to explain to her simple mind just how clever his own was.

And so Vorona had managed, over the past week, to discover more about this self-proclaimed shinigami. It wasn't much, and it often came in small bits and pieces, but slowly she felt like she was beginning to piece together some things. One of the most important, at least from her perspective, revolved around the red-haired woman named, at least presently, Hinoka Watanabe. Kurai had discovered her new identity during his search into Yagiri's affairs, one that she had apparently donned about two months earlier when she had come to Japan. The public record of Hinoka Watanbe was, up until two months ago, was what would expect for a normal citizen. Worked at a bookstore, mostly kept to herself, an only child to deceased parents and no other close family to speak of, no friends other than those that she kept on an online chatroom. A typically introverted city youth, one that nobody would seemingly miss if she suddenly disappeared. Which is what appears to have happened, until she suddenly shows up on the security cam footage at Tom's apartment.

According to Kurai, this is quite typical of behavior of this huntress. She would target someone she felt would not draw too much attention, do away with them, and then assume their identity, reconstructing her image as much as possible to match said person. Depending on the circumstances, she would sometimes live out months as said person, going through their daily life all while trying to lay traps for Kurai. It worked better to assume the identity of someone else than to introduce a new one into a pool of people. Even Kurai admitted that it was usually an effective strategy, as she could be in his general vicinity without drawing too much attention from his various feelers he had in the information networks.

This time, though, she seemed to have completely ditched all semblance of Hinoka Watanabe's normal life about two months ago. Instead, she had gone completely off the public grid, working to get in the employ of Seitarou Yagiri. Kurai had puzzled over this move for quite some time, wondering aloud more than once why she had put herself in plain sight. He had said it was unusually sloppy…almost too sloppy. Which, in Vorona's experience, meant one of two things: either this woman was trying to throw Kurai off guard and had something else hidden up her sleeve or she was just getting desperate. However, she had kept her analysis to herself. He'd likely figure as much on his own, and even if he didn't, Vorona found no reason to help him along to such a conclusion. For as Kurai puzzled through Hinoka Watanabe's actions, Vorona was slowly fed information.

He was, even from what little that she could see, obsessed. Clearly this woman, whoever she really was, meant something personal to him. From what she could tell, the two had been trading blows for quite some time, neither being able to off the other, locked in some sort of great war of attrition. Whether his personal grudge had been formed over the course of the this conflict or if it had been there even before that, Vorona did not know, but as soon as Kurai had seen her on the recording, he had become increasingly…agitated. He would constantly mumble to himself, like he was playing through possible scenarios and ideas at all times. He had seemingly redoubled his efforts, ravenously scouring over his computer or making phone calls (taking care to make sure Vorona was just out of earshot) at all times of the day and night. And perhaps most telling was the look in his violet eyes. There was an intensity there that dwarfed that of before, almost verging on that of madness, and he couldn't seem to hide it like he had been able to do so in the past. This wasn't a fight against some faceless assassin. No, this was a battle waged on his most resented enemy, someone who had done something to him on a personal level.

And it was during one of these particularly intense moments of aggravation that Vorona was able to glean more information, not regarding Kurai's relationship with this woman, but about his perceived powers. Powers that, as time went on, Vorona found herself believing in more and more. She hadn't recognized this for some time, but as she spent more time with Kurai, aiding in his research when she could, or acting as a sounding board to his thought processes, there was something certainly unworldly about him. All the things she had noted before, had dismissed because it was perhaps easier to deal with a crazy person than a genuine god of death, were made all the more apparent. And there was no denying what he had already done, was there? Maybe being back in Ikebukuro also had something to do with it, that being here, where she had first encountered this strange other world, allowed her to open her mind more to the possibility. She was hardly convinced, but it had certainly become a more distinct possibility as each day had passed.

Especially after a very particular conversation.

Kurai had been particularly agitated at the time, having just come back from a less than informative meeting with a contact who had apparently lied about how much he knew, a lie that had cost him his life. Seeing a opportunity, a moment where Kurai's guard might be down, Vorona had swooped.

"I don't see why you don't just kill her," Vorona had said casually as Kurai muttered to himself. "Using your…abilities. Would make your life much easier, I would think."

This had bought a patronizing snort from Kurai.

"If it were so easy," he had said, "do you think I would have not done so already? You really should not speak on topics in which you know nothing."

"I apologize," Vorona had said quickly. "It is not often that I know so little on a subject."

Kurai had raised an eyebrow at this.

"And I suppose that I'm supposed to enlighten you on the matter?"

"It would prevent us from having pointless conversation like these in the future," Vorona had noted. "And I believe you would be the only one that could inform me of such things."

"That may be true," Kurai had said, "But neither are necessities for me to tell you anything."

To which Vorona had shrugged and busied herself with the handgun she had been cleaning. This seemed to have tipped the scale for Kurai, as he quickly added, "Though I suppose you should know eventually, and having such conversations like this in the future, as you have noted, would be a waste of time."

"The reason why I can not just kill my enemy is two-fold. One, is that, for a shinigami to take a mortal's life, they must know the mortal's true name. Despite knowing this woman for quite some time, I have yet to uncover her real name. It is a detail that continues to elude me, despite my efforts. Additionally, a shinigami cannot just take a life whenever they feel like it. For, while we are the bringers of death, it is a work of purpose and order, not chaos and randomness. There are specific points in each mortal's life, points in which their destiny branches one way or another. These Divergence Points are meant to well-manicured by a shinigami, allowing the world to retain order. Thus, it is only at these Divergence Points in which a shinigami has any power over life or death, though at these points, they absolute power over both. If they have the mortal's true name, that is. For example, when you shot your father in Moscow, that was a Divergence Point for him. Or, when you tried to escape his facility, that was one for you. However, as I do not have my opponent's true name, even if she had reached a Divergence Point in her life, I could not kill her using my power. Do you understand now?"

"Not really," Vorona had said. "Sounds like a bunch of nonsense. True names? Divergence Points? Sounds more like excuses to me." She had been trying to get a rise out of him now, hoping that it might prompt him to explain further.

"It is far from that," Kurai had said, his eyes narrowing. "In fact, I'm certain you know exactly what I'm talking about. You've probably seen it countless times, even with your dulled senses. Tell me, in that moment, right before your about to pull the trigger, when you see the fear in your target's eyes, cannot you not sense the enormity of that moment? As if the entire universe hinges on whether you squeeze or not? That you have the power to completely change the course of another's future, a choice that is entirely in your hands? And when you look into that person's eyes, you see that they know it as well, that they have come to same realization as you. That they are wholly at your mercy and your decision is absolute? You have experienced such a thing, no?"

"Perhaps."

"Then you know what a Divergent Point looks like, in its most rudimentary form. Perhaps, with more training, you might be able to recognize other, less obvious Points, as I have, and maybe even come to know how to manipulate them."

Vorona had merely shrugged, trying to seem only cursorily interested in what her companion had said, and returned to cleaning her weapon. She had managed to get him talking, almost on his own accord. Was he beginning to trust her perhaps, to speak so freely about this? Or maybe he was losing his grip slightly, the presence of Hinoka causing his focus to stray elsewhere. Regardless, Vorona had been happy to quietly note these things, silently taking in every detail in hopes that it would somehow help in her in the future.

A future that, perhaps, was rapidly approaching. For, if Kurai's information served him correctly, Akane, or "Subject 001", would not be his only target hidden at Yagiri Pharmaceuticals. Hinoka Watanabe was also there in, apparently in a "supervisor" position. Apparently, she had gained her position in Yagiri's organization by bringing him a being of supernatural power, and then had likely been the one to orchestrate Shizuo's capture of Akane. This success had apparently bought her a great amount of pull the organization and she seemed to be entrusted with almost all things having to do with the capture and maintenance of the supernatural, including the current operation.

Kurai had not been able to dig out many details as to what specifically was going on at Yagiri Pharmaceuticals, only that tests were to be conducted on Subject 001, after which the subject was to be transported out of the country to a different facility. Apparently, the operation was being kept on a very need to know basis, even within Yagiri's ranks. Though this was not all that surprising. Kurai's contact had not been able to provide much in the way of specifics on any of Yagiri's operations. In fact, he didn't even have anything on the operation to kidnap Akane, citing that he had only known his boss had been given a vague tip on her at one point, but hadn't thought Yagiri had acted on it.

Which had given Vorona some pause. Technically, they didn't know Akane had been taken by Yagiri, for there was no concrete evidence of that. It was only when they had pieced together all of the information they had gathered that it _appeared_ that Yagiri had been behind it. And given how so much of this this entire situation stank of mind games and misdirection, it seemed almost foolhardy to base any action on assumption. Especially because there had been a lack of detail regarding another significant figure in all of this.

Shizuo Heiwajima.

In fact, there hadn't been anything about the man. No connections to Yagiri, and other than the singular piece of video evidence, no connection to Hinoka Watanabe either. The lack of information was curious at the least, troubling at worst. Was someone trying to cover his involvement in this? Or perhaps Kurai's contacts weren't as good as he made them out to be? Or was it something else entirely? Vorona had no way of knowing, which was hardly a comforting thought.

Vorona reached the building she had designated to rendezvous with Kurai and saw that he was already there, pressed up against the wall and peering around the corner. She silently crept next to him, sliding along the wall.

"I believe the time in their patrol that you mentioned is approaching," Kurai whispered as she joined him. "We should be ready to move."

Vorona nodded and replied, "Once inside, we'll be in a storage room of sorts. Stairwell to the lower levels will be just across the hall."

"Good," Kurai said, "You have the lockbreaker?"

"Ready to go."

"Excellent. We'll have about a ten second window to get across the grounds, unlock the door, and get inside."

Vorona nodded again. His estimation was similar to her own. Should be more than enough time. If the lockbreaker actually worked. Vorona was dubious of the device and would have felt much more comfortable just picking the lock the old-fashioned way, but they didn't have time for that.

Kurai held up a hand, three fingers extended. He dropped one, then a second, and finally the third before sprinting out from the cover of the building. Vorona was on his heels, her legs pushing her quickly across the concrete, the Yagiri Pharmaceuticals facility looming in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one of the guards on the far end of facility, facing in the opposite direction. His counterpart should soon be rounding the corner of the building they were guarding, where he would run directly into them. They needed to get inside before that happened. She could feel her injured leg lagging slightly behind the other, the dull pain becoming more irritated as she pushed herself forward. But Vorona tried to use the pain as a motivator, to not allow something so feeble be the end of her.

She pulled up alongside Kurai, the cool night air rushing past. Vorona felt an urge of elation and excitement run through her; she'd been cooped up in that safehouse for over a week and to finally free herself was exhilarating. Finally, she was back doing what she did best.

Vorona and Kurai arrived at the door, having covered the thirty meters between their hiding place and the door in a matter of seconds. She had already ripped the lockbreaker device free of her belt and quickly placed it on the door's lock, securing it in place and activating it. The device whirred to life and moments later Vorona could hear the clicking sound of metal on metal as the device sliced its way through the locking mechanisms. For several tense seconds, all Vorona could do was wait for the machine to do its job and hope that the guard did not show up early on his patrol. But then there was a quite beep from the device alerting them that it had successfully picked the lock, which prompted Vorona and Kurai to spring into action. A second later, she had removed the device from the door and the two of them were inside the dark storage room.

The room was filled with empty shelving, all the supplies having been moved or sold off when the company had gone under. Instead, cobwebs and dust clung to them. Clearly, it had been some time since anyone had been in here. Vorona pulled out her phone once more, scanning over the blueprints as she and Kurai crossed the room.

"I'll take the first level, you take the next," Kurai said, sliding the door open and glancing out at the dark hallway beyond before gesturing for her to follow him.

"I remember," Vorona replied quietly, slipping out into the hallway and crossing over to the stairwell.

The two of them descended down the stairs, Kurai getting off at the first landing, giving Vorona a quick nod before disappearing through the door as she continued down. They were unsure of where specifically in the building they were keeping Akane, but going over the blueprints, they had picked out several likely locations. It appeared that Yagiri Pharmaceuticals had some "interesting" architectural designs, especially when it came to that of the basements. Several rooms on the first level had been reinforced with extra steel beams and had three feet thick walls, all of which were seemingly unnecessary from a structural standpoint. Additionally there was an overly large room on the floor below that, once again reinforced and with offshoot rooms equipped with one-way mirrors. It was the latter that Vorona would be investigating.

She made her way down the stairs and exited on the next landing. The room was in the center of the complex and was two stories high, with the landing she currently was on being the higher of the two. According to the blueprints, there were steel walkways that she would have access to, hopefully where she could get a glimpse of what was going on in the room without being seen herself.

Though they had been fairly certain that the security cameras would no longer be in use, Vorona still made note of their locations and used the jammer that Kurai had given her just in case. Unlike the hallway on the ground floor, these corridors were lit, every third light turned on. Not something one would expect from a supposedly abandoned building. However, certainly something one would expect of a facility in use. And while the lights seemed evidence that this building was not abandoned, the state of the rest of the corridor seemed to state otherwise. Dust piled and grime and mold has started to crawl its way through the various cracks in the concrete.

Vorona crept along, jamming cameras when she came across them, attempting to stick to the dark areas of the hallway and moving quickly through the _ of light. Her black body suit allowed her to blend into the shadows, hopefully giving her the split-second advantage she would need if she ran into anyone.

However, she never needed to test that theory, as she made it to her destination without any problems. She had maneuvered around to the west entrance to the room, judging it to be the least likely to be populated given the design of the building. The door was locked, but not many doors remained so for Vorona. And indeed, after only a short delay, this one too opened to her lockpicking skills.

Pushing it open ever so slowly, Vorona peeked through and saw that the metal walkways were indeed abandoned, just as she had hoped. They were there to maintain the pipes that ran through the room, but given the sorry state that the building had fallen into, she doubted they had been used in years. Creeping slowly out onto the walkway, making sure to measure her steps so as to avoid a metallic clang coming from her foot contacting steel, Vorona looked down to the bottom of room, which was being flooded with piercing white light.

There, in the center of the room, was a platform, on which sat a singular bed, surrounded by several carts. On top of the carts appeared to be medical instruments of various kinds, and on top of the bed lay a young woman, strapped tight to it by braces around her ankles and hands. Standing next to the bed where four men, dressed in white lab coats, their faces covered by surgical masks. Vorona crept further out onto the walkway, trying to get a better look. Those in the lab coats appeared to be speaking to one another, though Vorona could not make out what they were saying from this distance. The young woman, for her part, seemed completely unconscious.

And while at first, Vorona had thought her to be Akane, she quickly realized that the girl on the bed was much older, likely in her late teens or early twenties. For some reason, she looked vaguely familiar, but Vorona could not quite place where she had seen her before. Silently cursing herself for not being able to remember, she inched further out onto the walkway, hoping that the darkness and elevation would keep her from being noticed.

In addition to the four in labcoats, Vorona noted two armed guards standing at the north entrance and two more at the south entrance. All seemed to be carrying some sort of rifle, though she was too far away and they too shrouded in darkness for her to be able to make out the make or model of the weapons. Eight potential targets in the room, possibly more in the adjoining ones watching via the mirrors.

But they would likely only remain that; _potential_ targets. Because, whatever the poor girl below was suffering, she wasn't Akane. She wasn't Vorona's objective here. And she doubted Kurai would take lightly to her endangering their mission by risking it all for an unknown girl. No, unfortunately, all she could do now was report what she had seen and hope that Kurai had better luck in locating Akane.

However, before she could activate her mic, a loud rumbling came from overhead. Vorona instantly found herself looking up, though she quickly looked back down and noted that the ceiling had taken the attention of everyone else in the room. Unfortunately, this had also directed their gaze towards her. Vorona felt herself stiffen as eyes gazed over her, hoping that the shadows would be enough to disguise her. Otherwise, she'd be a sitting duck, completely out in the open on the walkway. The commotion from above continued and Vorona found herself begging for it to stop. Was it Kurai that was doing that? Or what the hell was going on?

For several seconds, the sound continued, and Vorona tried to piece out what it was. It almost sounded like something was being blasted apart, almost like an explosion. And then the rumbling stopped for a moment and instead the sound of distant gunshots could be heard.

 _Dammit,_ Vorona thought. Kurai must have been discovered…

The weapons fire then ceased and as Vorona looked down at those gathered below, she could see those in the lab coats talking quickly among themselves, making elaborate and agitated hand gestures. Meanwhile, the guards had started to take up defensive positions alongside the doors, their rifles raised and ready to fire as soon as someone came through the door. One was talking on a walkie, apparently trying to get information on the situation, but to no avail. None seemed to have noticed her, and Vorona let out a small breath of relief. However, she really needed to move; Akane wasn't here. She didn't care about the safety of her companion, but the young girl was innocent in all of this and even if Kurai was dead, Vorona was intent on getting her out of here. Though somehow she doubted that gap in gunshots was not because Kurai had fallen, but because the owners of said weapons were likely no longer in a state to continue to fire them.

Vorona slowly began to sneak back from her place on the walkway, moving as quietly as she possibly could. She was about to the door that she had entered from when suddenly it burst open, two armed guards stepping through. Vorona's eyes widened and her hand instantly went to the pistol at her hip.

"We have an intruder of unknown stre—" one of the guards started to yell down to those below, but suddenly cut himself short as he made out the dark form of Vorona directly in front of him.

"What the hell?" the guard said as he started to raise his weapon, but he got not further as Vorona placed a bullet between his eyes. The guard's companion quickly dove behind the door, Vorona's second shot just barely missing as she adjusted her aim. However, the next rain of shots came not from the doorway, but rather from below, as the guards had suddenly shifted their attention upwards, the shout of their now deceased comrade and sound of Vorona's pistol going off garnering their attention. Lead pinged into the steel of the walkway and Vorona quickly shifted direction and ran away from the doorway, just as the guard there stuck his rifle around the corner and began to spray at random. Bullets blasted at her feet and whizzed around her, none finding their mark. However, she knew it was only a matter of time before her luck ran out. Twisting as she ran, she leveled her pistol at the guard that had the best angle on her from below and unloaded three shots in his direction. At least one seemed to have found its mark, as the guard collapsed in agony.

As she turned to target the next guard, Vorona suddenly found herself pitching forward, something colliding heavily with her injured leg and taking it out from underneath her. And while she felt no pain yet, Vorona knew that she had been hit, and the pain would soon follow. That was, of course, if she lived that long. No longer moving, she was a much easier target.

Silently cursing Kurai for placing her in this situation, Vorona rolled while trying to get to her feet, an awkward maneuver that, while seemingly getting her out of the way of a hail of lead, only caused her to flop to metal walkway once more. Twisting her arm around, she quickly pulled off two shots of her pistol at the next guard below.

The guard went down, though not because either of her shots had found its mark. Rather, it was due to the fist that had suddenly burst through the concrete wall behind him, landing a blow directly to the back of his head and sending him flailing in a shower of concrete bits. Suddenly, bullets stopped exploding around her, the weapons instead being at man that now stood in the hole in the wall that he had created. Vorona hardly gave this newcomer a second glance; whoever he was, he had afforded her a distraction, one that she wasn't about to waste.

Flipping to her other side, Vorona lined up a shot with one of the guards' heads, exhaled, and pulled the trigger once. A moment later, the man's body was collapsing to the ground, his rifle clattering to concrete floor. She was drawing up on the next guard when suddenly he was sent flying into the wall behind him, a large piece of concrete wall slamming into him at an incredible speed. Surprised but not wasting time to dwell on what she had just seen, Vorona instead turned back to the guard on her level, who had joined her on the platform along with three others. For a moment, Vorona's gut twisted, knowing that she was near helpless and completely without cover. However, their weapons were not trained on her prone form, but rather on the man below. They opened fire, as did Vorona. One went down, drawing the attention of the man next him. She lined up a shot on him, pulled the trigger, but was only met with the sickening sound of an empty click.

How had she lost count? Surely this couldn't be right? She was better than this…

But none of that matter as guard leveled his rifle at her. Vorona rolled, hoping that her opponent was close to empty as well.

Her world was suddenly thrust sideways, the sound of her impending doom never coming. Instead, there was the screeching sound of metal on metal and then the creaking, groaning noise of steel being overexerted. The metal walkway had suddenly pitched forward and sideways and as Vorona twisted back around to see her opponents, she could see that one of the beams that had been holding the platform up had somehow been cut clean through. The guards had fallen to their knees, clinging to metal grating of the platform as it tipped sideways. Suddenly, the second beam was sliced through, seemingly by a bar of reinforced steel surrounded by bits of concrete moving at an incredible velocity. With both beams at that end gone, the platform tipped forward, spilling both guards over the edge and causing Vorona to slip down the grated metal as if it were some sort of demented slide. Her hands reached out to grab the safety railings to halt her descent, but the cool metal slipped through her fingers and she found herself suddenly falling through empty air.

Vorona contorted her body, trying to get into a rolling position that would hopefully soften her landing. And while she hardly had time for that, she luckily landed on a much more forgiving surface than the concrete floor below. An agonized grunt came from the guard that she landed on, and as she tumbled away from him she could see that she had probably knocked the wind out of him as well. The other guard, however, was trying to get to his feet, his eyes now locked on Vorona, a furious rage burning behind them. Vorona scrambled to her feet as well, her injured leg nearly threatening to give way underneath her, the pain of the gunshot now starting to make itself known. Gunshots erupted behind her, but didn't seem to be dedicated towards her. A quick glance in that direction showed her one of the men in lab coats had drawn a weapon of his own and had opened fire on the mysterious attacker who had burst through the wall. The attacker, for his part, was closing in on the four crowded on the platform, a piece of rebar of rebar clutched in each hand.

But Vorona could afford them no further attention, as she had her own problem to deal with. The guard was now charging towards her, a murderous look on his face. Knowing that she could not match his strength head on, given his full head of steam, Vorona adopted a defensive stance. Her opponent lunged toward her, an angry yell emitting from his lips. She slipped sideways and extended her good leg out towards him, intending to use his momentum against him. And while, for the most part this maneuver succeeded, sending the man tumbling over her leg and splaying to the ground before her, his hand managed to grip her arm, dragging her down with him. Fallen and bleeding, Vorona rolled towards the guard who was trying to right himself. She punched forward as twisted over his back, landing blows to his kidneys before wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing. The guard clawed at her forearm and elbow, trying urgently to release himself, but Vorona held tight. She could feel his attempts grow ever more desperate, scratching and tearing, his body squirming under her. But then they began to weaken, and then stop altogether.

She released the man, his head thudding against the concrete floor. She was breathing heavily, the exertion and the pain taking its toll on her body, which was screaming, both for oxygen and in pain from the gunshot wound. Vorona spun off the unconscious form of the guard and quickly looked around for a weapon, her own empty and having fallen from her grip when the walkway had collapsed. Her search was interrupted almost immediately by a large white blur flying past her, a blur that she quickly realized was one of the men in the lab coats. The man hit the far wall hard and immediately slumped down. Vorona spun in the direction he had come from, only to see another blur racing toward her. This time though, it was not one of the labcoats, but rather the mysterious attacker, who was charging at her full speed. He looked to be a normal man of regular build, dressed, strangely enough, in jeans and a sweatshirt, hood pulled over his head, shrouding his facial features in darkness due to the strong overhead lighting. But apparently looks could be deceiving. For she had just seen this man punch his way through a concrete wall and hurl people around like they were play things. He must be another one of Yagiri's subjects, which didn't make him her enemy. However, the fact that he seemed fully intent on ramming into her made it clear that he didn't have the same sentiment.

Vorona sidestepped the charging man, intent on sending a countering kick into is gut. But the man was fast. Incredibly so. He stopped on a dime and swung a fist directly at her head, one that she barely was able to duck underneath. Another swing followed that one, imprecise but powerful. Vorona spun away, pirouetting on her good leg. Her opponent didn't allow her a moment to even regather herself, launching himself into another punch aimed for her center of mass.

 _He's relentless,_ Vorona thought to herself, barely being able to redirect the blow away from herself with a counter along his forearm. _Untrained, but incredibly powerful…_

She knew if he landed even a single blow, it would be all over. And she couldn't keep this up for long. Though his attacks were wild, they continued to come with a speed and ferocity that Vorona knew she couldn't match in her current state. Maybe ever. In fact, the style reminded her of-

Vorona caught a leg directly to her chest, which instantly knocked the wind from her. She could sense herself tumbling through the air, a motion of complete freedom of gravity. A motion that came to an abrupt halt as she slammed into the wall behind her. Luckily, it seemed that the attack had been meant more as a feint than anything, a distraction for a follow up attack. There had not been nearly as much power behind the kick as Vorona had seen him generate before. Chastising herself for getting distracted, Vorona got to her feet quickly, eyeing her opponent as she charged forward once more. She briefly wondered if there was some way to communicate to him that she wasn't his enemy, but knew that the only way to get message across was to put him into a position in which punching was no longer possible. She needed to take advantage of his lack of discipline…

Another punch came for her, aimed directly at her face. Vorona jerked her head out of the way and the fist slammed into the concrete, causing it to crack. The follow-up with the opposite hand soon came, just has she had expected. Vorona allowed this one to break past the point of no return before rolling inside of his guard, her opponent's fist harmlessly sailing past as she did so. She countered with a quick strike aimed towards his jugular, a strike she was certain would connect. But this man was impossibly fast, breaking sideways and grabbing for her extended arm. Vorona slipped away from him, but she had lost her advantage. She swung her leg towards his torso, intending to give herself the space she needed to regroup, but instead of backing away from the strike, her opponent merely caught her attack mid-swing, halting the momentum with an inhuman strength.

Balanced solely on her injured leg, her other caught in the vice grip of her opponent, Vorona knew she was in trouble. She needed to do something unexpected.

So, instead of attempting to break her good leg free of the man, as most would, Vorona instead threw herself in closer to him, wrapping herself around his arm and aiming a kick at his head. The blow connected, sending shivers of pain through her leg and then spreading to the rest of her body. But it had done its job; the man's grip on her leg slackened just enough for her to wriggle herself free. She then spun quickly, sweeping her newly freed leg down around the man's ankles. This too landed, and her opponent was swept off his feet, yelling in anger and surprise, his hood falling from his head. Not wasting a moment, Vorona took advantage, leaping on top of the man and unleashing a flurry of blows with her fists while she pinned him to ground with her lower body. And while one or two blows landed initially, Vorona quickly realized her mistake. This man merely absorbed the attacks with his face, freeing his hands to go on the offensive. One of them quickly snaked out and grabbed her right arm by the wrist, effectively immobilizing it and leaving her open his follow up; an iron grip on her throat, closing off her airways.

He quickly lifted her off him as she tried to furtively to release his grip on her neck. However, he quickly chucked her aside, sending her once again tumbling across the hard concrete. With each hit on the floor, Vorona could feel her flesh bruising. When she finally slid to a halt, she found herself gasping for air, each gulp not bringing nearly enough air to her aching lungs. She ripped her mask from her face, hoping to draw more air in. She knew she needed to stand, to get to her feet, but her body refused to obey. Every bit of her ached with fatigue and pain, her leg still bleeding. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself upwards, threatening to collapse at any moment. Bruised, bloody, and broken, Vorona found herself wondering if she had anything left to give in this fight. Tried to dig deep to find some ounce of motivation to push her forward.

But then he was already there, standing over her, likely prepared to deliver the final blow. Vorona once again silently cursed Kurai for getting caught, for blowing their cover. Was this really how it was going to end? It didn't seem right…she still had so much to do…for once she actually needed to survive, actually had something that was worth living for. Akane still needed her. Sloan needed her. Dammit, she wasn't going to die here. Not yet.

Suddenly, she found herself bursting upwards. Hand to her side. Knife from its sheath. A quick jab under his jaw. He wouldn't be expecting it. He wasn't her enemy, didn't need to die. But he did. So that she could live. She needed to live, dammit, and if this man had to die because of it, then that was the price she was more than willing to pay.

She was fast. An attack fueled with ferocious desperation coupled with deadly accuracy. A glint of silver slicing up, aiming for the soft flesh of the underside of a jaw. A jaw that seemed familiar…a jaw that, as Vorona's eyes followed the rest of her upwards, was connected to a face that to was incredibly familiar. Impossibly familiar. Because, despite the lack of bleach blonde, messy hair and the purple sunglasses, there was no mistaking that face.

A strong hand clasped her wrists, stopping the knife's upward trajection. Vorona watched as blood dripped down the blade's edge, her gut twisting at the sight of it. The hand on her wrist slowly guided the knife down, away from the underside of his jaw, where her knife had just barely nicked his chin. Her hands trembled, her fingers feeling numb and unable to continue to grip the handle of the weapon. And so it tumbled from her hands and clattered loudly to ground. Her head swam as her gaze crawled up from the wound she had caused, passing by lips she had seen most often in a scowl, but also in an awkwardly endearing grin, gliding along an all too familiar nose before eventually lighting upon eyes that were clouded in a wild array of emotions. All the energy that she had briefly summoned for her final strike seemed to seep from her and her knees weakened. Vorona felt herself on the verge of collapse, but the steady grip of his hand on her wrists kept her standing upright.

Was it really him? Was it really possible? That after all that had happened, this is how they would finally meet?

"Vorona?"

The sound of her name being spoken in his voice, a voice that sounded exactly as she had remembered it, seemed like something out of a dream. Thoughts swam by in her head and she tried to pluck one out from the stream. She had lost a lot of blood by now, hadn't she? It was getting harder and harder to maintain any sort of clear thought…

"Shizuo…?" she managed.

He gave a quick solemn nod. He was clearly trying to process something. Quite possibly the same thing she was struggling to hold onto, something she desperately needed answered.

 _What are you doing here?_

And, depending on the answer, whether she was in the hands of a trusted ally, or an enemy.

But then, he seemed to make up his mind, something that Vorona was unable to do. He lowered her slightly, before repositioning himself underneath her arm, using his frame next to hers to support her. Apparently, he had decided that, regardless of the answer to that question, he was going to help her.

"You're bleeding pretty badly," Shizuo grunted, leading her over to wall and propping her up against it. Distant gunshots sounded off, seemingly coming from above. _Kurai._ "I need to tie it off before more guards show up."

Vorona nodded vaguely, her focus on every detail of his face. His hair was short and dark now, but everything else was the same, just like it had been. Surely this was the same Shizuo she remembered…one that wouldn't partake in kidnappings…one that would help a wounded friend even if he was unsure of her own allegiance…the same Shizuo….right?

She barely noticed him roll up her pant leg to examine the wound, but the look on his face told her everything she needed to know.

"Dammit," Shizuo hissed, quickly removing his sweatshirt, his brow wrinkling in concern, his eyes twinkling with fear. Vorona tried to memorize the lines of his face, tried to keep the picture of him clear in her mind, but everything felt like it was slipping away from her. Everything was jumbled and confused…

"Sorry…" she said, the word slipping from her lips.

"What?" Shizuo replied, looking up from his work for a brief moment.

"Sorry," Vorona said, not really sure where the words were coming from, "It was supposed to—supposed to be a duel of words, not-not this."

A look of confusion spread across Shizuo's face, but it was soon replaced by one of understanding as he realized what she was referring to.

"Yeah, you better be," he grunted, still trying to create a makeshift tourniquet out of his sweatshirt. "And I am still going to hold you to that promise, trainee. So no dying until you can make it up to me."

Vorona felt a small laugh come up from her chest, but it came out more like a racking cough.

"No—promises…" she replied weakly.

"That's not how it works," Shizuo said, starting to sound further away than he was. "You already said you were going to. Can't go back on it now…"

And despite his efforts to remain calm, Vorona could read her friend's body language, even through slowing of her mind. Her situation was a dire one…all that resolution she had earlier about not dying suddenly seemed feeble and pointless. Like there was really a choice…

"C'mon, stick with me here…keep talking…"

Then his gaze was suddenly diverted away from her. Something else had garnered his attention…more guards, perhaps. She followed his gaze and what she saw made no sense. For it was another Shizuo, not like the one that was kneeling next to her, but looking more like himself. Blonde hair. Bartender's uniform. Purple sunglasses. The other Shizuo had just entered the room and had quickly noticed them.

The first Shizuo frowned and got to his feet. Was she hallucinating? But the flow of her thoughts was so jumbled that she could hardly even posit the question, let alone consider its answer. There were two of them though…she was seeing that…

"You hold tight," Shizuo told her, rolling up the sleeves of his undershirt. "I have some long overdue business with this man right here, and I'd hate to keep him waiting any longer."

* * *

 _((Hey everyone, sorry about the long wait on this one; I've been pretty busy but I wanted to make sure I didn't rush this chapter, hence the hiatus. But it's finally up and I hope you all enjoy! Thanks again for all the kind comments; I really do appreciate the support! Can't wait to get to the next couple chapters!))_


	18. Chapter 18: The Imposter

It was him. The imposter. The one that had forced him to hide like a coward. The one that had taken both his identity and Akane.

Shizuo gritted his teeth, rage bubbling. Rage that had been slowly building over the past weeks. Rage that he would finally unleash. His hands clenched into fists. And while he wanted answers for questions that had plagued him, Shizuo had no intention of talking. It was time that this imposter paid for his crimes. He exploded forward, anger and adrenaline propelling him.

He closed the distance between them quickly. The doppelganger had not moved an inch, unable to keep up with his speed, perhaps. Shizuo unleashed a furious strike, aimed at his opponent's head. The False-Shizuo merely ducked sideways and the blow hissed through empty air. Shizuo took a step back, not expecting such quickness. This fake version of him was fast. Shizuo gritted his teeth.

 _Well, let's just see how quick you really are, you bastard!_

Shizuo launched into action, releasing a salvo of furious strikes. The False-Shizuo retreated, sliding away from the onslaught, dodging around every punch that Shizuo threw his way. Shizuo growled in frustration as he continued to press in on his doppelganger. His opponent was barely avoiding contact, and yet he seemed to be doing it in such a controlled and undaunted fashion. The expression on the False-Shizuo's face was a seemingly placid one, unconcerned at the current situation. But in the eyes that so resembled his own, there was a smoldering rage.

"Come on, dammit!" Shizuo yelled, another punch sailing just past his opponent's nose. "If it's a fight you wanted, then let's do this!"

Shizuo feinted another strike and instead struck out with his leg, sweeping it across and landing kick directly to the False-Shizuo's side. But instead of powering through ribs and launching his opponent off his feet, the doppelganger didn't budge.

 _What…?_

"Be careful what you wish for," the False-Shizuo growled.

The imposter brought an elbow down on Shizuo's still lifted leg, clearly aiming for the kneecap. Shizuo reacted without thinking, retreating to avoid the blow. But this False-Shizuo was fast, and Shizuo slipped to a knee as the elbow connected with his shin, blasting it downward and causing him to lose his balance. The power behind even glancing blow was impressive; surely it matched his own strength. Which begged the question: who was this doppelganger that held such power? Or, perhaps, asking _what_ he was would be more accurate.

But those were questions that would have to be answered later. After he had beaten this guy to a pulp.

Shizuo rolled to the side as the False-Shizuo launched a downward kick that shattered the concrete that he had been standing on just a moment earlier. Shizuo got to his feet, narrowly avoiding a follow-up attack from his opponent. Even as the strike sailed through nothing but air, Shizuo could still sense the power behind the coordinated punch. In fact, every action that this False-Shizuo had taken this far had been precise and graceful. His opponent clearly had excellent body control, control that usually only came with years of training.

Ducking underneath another punch, Shizuo quickly realized that keeping up with man would be difficult. And as battle wore on, this became even more evident. Every attack, every feint, every movement, was calculated and executed. A high kick aimed at his head would eventually lead to a punch to the ribcage that had cornered Shizuo three moves later. The False-Shizuo seemed to know exactly when he would try to counter, when he fly into an offensive onslaught, when he would fall back. He almost seemed omniscient, dodging or blocking every attack as it came. And even those blows that Shizuo managed to land only seemed part of some grand strategy on the part of his opponent.

Shizuo continued to throw strike after strike, desperately searching for a way through his doppelganger's defenses. He'd keep playing the False-Shizuo's game as long as it took. As long and he needed to figure out a way to beat him at it. Because there wasn't any other option. He glanced quickly at the now still form of Vorona on the floor and his resolve solidified.

A powerful punch to his gut sent Shizuo tumbling through the air; he had only dropped his guard for a moment, but the False-Shizuo had not failed to notice. Shizuo slammed into the wall of the chamber, the concrete cracking and crumbling with the impact. He thought he heard the cracking of bone, but, as always, no pain followed. The air had been blasted from his lungs and he fell to a knee.

The follow-up attack came, just and he had known it would, and he allowed it, taking the knee directly to his face. A crunching sound, bone to bone, filled his ears as the False-Shizuo's knee connected with his nose. His head connected will the wall and bounced back, only to be smacked to the side by a right hook from the doppelganger. A follow up blow from the left, and then blow from the right, a knee to his jaw. They kept coming, strike after strike. The False-Shizuo had sensed that he was at the cusp of victory and was not going to let the opportunity pass by. Shizuo absorbed each blow as it came, and while he felt no pain, he understood that damage was being done. Damage that he could not continue to sustain, lest there be lasting effects, or even death.

Finally, his fingers managed to grasp the object that they had been inching towards this entire time. Grasping the handle firmly, Shizuo waited. A strike from the left, followed up by a knee, and then, if he was correct, another right hook. A predictable pattern, a mistake, one that he doubted the False-Shizuo realized he had fallen into.

Shizuo struck upwards, Vorona's fallen knife now in hand. The metal sliced through flesh, embedding itself into the right palm of the doppelganger and exiting through the back of the hand. The attack managed to deter the course of the False-Shizuo's blow, which blasted into the concrete wall just to the left of Shizuo's head. A cry was uttered from his opponent and Shizuo took advantage, launching himself forward and tackling the False-Shizuo to the ground.

Landing on top, Shizuo pushed himself into a kneeling position, pinning his opponent with his lower body. Arms free, he unloaded punch after punch into the face that looked impossibly like his own. He let his rage take over, all the anger that had been built up not just over this fight, but from the week of sitting around and doing _nothing_. Now he finally had his outlet, now he finally had the person who deserved to be on the receiving end of his fury.

But instead of wearing down his doppelganger, each punch seemed to have little effect. In fact, perhaps it was having the opposite; spreading across the False-Shizuo's face was a small, eerie smile. Unnerved, Shiuzo redoubled his efforts, desperately trying to wipe the smile of his own face. Growling in frustration, he landed punch after punch, intent on making this monster pay. But nothing he did seemed to have an effect. His opponent's disposition hardly changed, the disturbed half-smile still lit across his lips. Almost equally odd was the way the skin of his opponent seemed to react, not bruising under his punishing blows but almost reshaping beneath his fists.

 _What the hell…?_

For a moment, Shizuo held his fist back, looking directly into his own bloodied visage. Despite the lack of bruising, blood ran freely from the False-Shizuo's nose and mouth and now that he could see it more clearly, the face was visibly misshapen. He had never once seen a human face react to pressure like this, almost as if he had been some sort of putty that had been molded into a different shape. It was a disturbing sight, especially given that the basics of the face still very much resembled his own.

The False-Shizuo, taking advantage of the break in punching, spat blood from his mouth, still smiling ever so slightly.

"Ah yeah," he rasped, "That's the stuff right there. That's _exactly_ what I was expecting."

Shizuo held a fist back, ready to unleash it into his opponent's face and begin the onslaught again. But something about the disturbing image before him held him back.

"You're really as strong I believed," the False-Shizuo continued, his eyes wandering in an incohesive manner. "Though, if I had to guess, you've been holding back. Even now. But I suppose that's just how you are, isn't it Shizuo Heiwajima?"

Now his eyes focused, looking directly into Shizuo's. His fist was cocked and ready, but he couldn't pull the trigger.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Shizuo growled.

The False-Shizuo tried to laugh, which quickly turned into a cough.

"Exactly as expected," the doppelganger said quietly, "Such rage…but where does it come from? What is it that you are angry at, Shizuo? I have several hypotheses and…"

The False-Shizuo stopped midsentence, a fist blasting him in the mouth quickly ending his speech for him.

"You're really starting to piss me off," Shizuo growled, "So give me a good reason not to finish you off right now."

"Ha!" the False-Shizuo exclaimed, " _Finish me off?_ Oh, Shizuo, we both know how laughable that is."

"Not finding it funny myself."

The False-Shizuo rolled his eyes. "Oh come now. We both know you won't kill me. You haven't got it in you. No…no, you just can't go through with anything can you? All that potential, all that talent, and what do you do with it? You squander it, let it decay. You spend your days threatening low-level gangsters, helping collect money that'll just find its way back into their hands anyway."

And as he spoke, the False-Shizuo got ever more agitated. And while the urge to shut the doppelganger up certainly was strong, the words had momentarily frozen him.

"You're a freak, sure," the False-Shizuo said, visibly growing angrier. "But you know what's worse? You know what really takes the cake? What really pisses _me_ off? That you don't do anything with it. You could have cleaned up Ikebukuro ten times over by now, but you just sit on your ass and do nothing!"

The False-Shizuo paused, breathing heavily. His eyes blazed, the anger that had been smoldering there now an explosive wildfire.

"But you don't give a fuck, do you?" the False-Shizuo said, his voice wild. "You'd rather wallow in mediocrity, sleepwalk through this life that has been so _unfair._ Oh, poor me, I'm not like everyone else. Poor me, everyone thinks I'm a freak. That's all anyone will ever see me as. That's all I am, a freak, a monster. Well you know what? Fuck that. Fuck that shit. How about stop being such a fucking coward and actually _do_ something about it?"

Shizuo launched another fist at his doppelganger, slamming the False-Shizuo's head into the concrete. But instead of shutting up his tormentor, this only seemed to enliven him.

"Oh yes, just punch me!" the False-Shizuo said, nearly hysterical now, "Because that's the only way you know how to handle _anything!_ Goddamn, you're exactly what I thought you were, what I knew you would be!"

Suddenly, the imposter's hand was at Shizuo's throat, freeing itself from where Shizuo's leg had it pinned. The False-Shizuo dragged him sideways, and then their positions were flipped, the doppelganger pinning him to the ground with his hand still around his throat.

"But that won't be a problem much longer," the False-Shizuo frothed, his misshapen features contorting oddly as he spoke. "Because after tonight, Ikebukuro will finally have the Shizuo Heiwajima it needs! Because unlike you, I'll actually do something with these gifts. First Ikebukuro, then all of Tokyo. Japan. Who the fuck knows, maybe the entire world. I'll do what needs to be done. I'll do what you couldn't be bothered to do. I'll be a fucking hero! And you know what you'll be?"

His fingers tighten on Shizuo's throat, his own hands barely keeping the imposter's grip from crushing his windpipe. A crazy, insane look came from those eyes, a look that Shizuo hoped he would never have in his own, for there was certainly nothing more frightening…

"You'll be dea—"

A single gunshot rang out and suddenly Shizuo was free. He scrambled to his feet as the False-Shizuo crawled away, blood now running down from the fresh wound in his shoulder.

"You talk too much," Vorona said as Shizuo spun to see her leaning weakly against the wall behind him, a pistol held out in her shaking hand.

The False-Shizuo stared at his wound, as if momentarily transfixed by it. His wounded hand, which too was still bleeding, touched the gunshot gingerly, as if trying to confirm that it was real. But the look of surprise on his face suddenly changed to one of fury as he spun to look at Vorona.

"You…you bitch!" the False-Shizuo screamed, getting to his feet quickly. Shizuo charged forward, loading up for a knockout punch. He swung, but his fist only connected with empty air as the imposter ducked out of the way.

"And you," the False-Shizuo said, "are a fool."

A kick took Shizuo's legs out from under him and he was falling. But before he even hit the ground, the False-Shizuo had grabbed on of his legs and swung him around, pirouetting around once before launching Shizuo across the vast chamber. He slammed into a wall and fell to the ground. Glancing up as he tried to push himself to his feet, he saw the False-Shizuo making his way over to Vorona. She pulled the trigger once, twice, but only a clicking sound emanated from the weapon. Shizuo tried to push himself up faster, but his muscles weren't responding. Was he reaching his limits? Had he pushed himself too far? No…no there had to be more there…

The False-Shizuo reached Vorona and kicked her wound on her leg. She gave a cry of pain and a crazed smile came across the False-Shizuo's face.

"Don't feel too good, does it?" the False-Shizuo growled, now grabbing her by the throat and lifting her off her feet. Vorona struggled, but all her attempts hardly seemed to even be noticed by the imposter. Shizuo was finally on his feet, trying to ungainly make his way across the chamber, but he was going to be too slow, much too slow…

Another gunshot rang out, this one coming from the walkway above. The False-Shizuo instantly dropped Vorona, screaming out in anger and pain. He glanced up to the walkway and Shizuo spun around as well. Standing there, discharging the used cartridge from her rifle and loading another, was a lithe, red-haired woman dressed in the same uniform as Yagiri's guards.

 _Hinoka…_

"Hey Nori," Hinoka said, leveling her rifle, "How about keeping your hands to yourself?"

She fired again and the False-Shizuo staggered, falling down to a knee.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Hinoka?!" the False-Shizuo snarled.

"Something I've been waiting to do for a long time," Hinoka replied, cocking her rifle once more.

Not waiting for her to fire again, the False-Shizuo sprinted for the exit. Hinoka fired once more, the shot pinging off the metal door harmlessly. Not even bothering to open the door, the False-Shizuo merely lowered his shoulder and ran through it, taking it off its hinges. And then he was gone.

"Grab her," Hinoka said, pointing to Vorona as she jumped down to Shizuo's level, landing gracefully. "I'll get Ruri."

Shizuo nodded and stumbled over to Vorona. She had slumped back to the ground, leaning precariously against the wall. How she had managed to inch over to a gun and pull the trigger was beyond him, but if there was anyone who could have pulled it off in her state, it was Vorona. He knelt down next to her and her violet eyes fluttered up to meet his own.

"Dammit," she murmured.

"What?"

"I was aiming for his head."

"Close enough," Shizuo replied. "We can work on your aim later."

Vorona nodded, a small smile etching out over her face.

"Uh, don't know if you noticed," Hinoka said from across the chamber, Ruri's form tossed over her shoulder, "but you've made a bit of a ruckus and we're going to have company real soon if we don't get out of here now."

Shizuo turned back to Vorona. She clearly wasn't going to be able to walk on her own.

"Er…mind if I carry you?"

Vorona managed a raised eyebrow.

"Right," Shizuo said, rubbing his neck awkwardly, "Just thought I'd…ah, nevermind."

He scooped his arms underneath her, making sure to mind her wounds, and lifted her up. He was surprised at the effort it took; only more evidence of how much of a beating he had taken. Shuffling over to Hinoka, who had ditched her rifle for a pistol given she only had one free hand, Shizuo gave her a quick nod to show he was ready.

"Alright follow me," Hinoka said, leading him out the doors opposite those that the False-Shizuo had fled through. He followed her through the winding labyrinth of halls, at points recognizing areas where he had fought some of Yagiri's men. It all seemed like a blur. There was so much to consider…the False-Shizuo, Hinoka showing up just in time, actually finding Ruri, which meant the mysterious caller had been right…and of course, Vorona. But he could ponder those things later. Right now, it took so much concentration to even move one foot in front of the other.

They wheeled around a corner and ran headlong into a pair of guards.

"Ms. Watanabe?" one of them said, his eyes traveling from the unconscious Ruri over her shoulder to the beaten and worn forms of Shizuo and Vorona. His expression went from one of confusion to realization, and then to one of brief shock as Hinoka leveled her pistol and pulled the trigger.

Before his companion had even hit the ground, the second guard was soon following him, the shot to the head at point blank range finishing both of them before they even truly knew what had hit them. Shizuo grimaced but stepped around the bodies as Hinoka pressed on.

Gunfire sounded elsewhere in the building and Shizuo wondered who else could possibly be here. Had Hinoka convinced others in joining her against their employer? Or perhaps Vorona hadn't come alone. If either were the case, then they should probably help.

"Just keep moving," HInoka said gruffly, seemingly reading his mind. "Trust me, it's Yagiri's men who'll need the help if that's who I think it is."

After passing through several more corridors, Hinoka finally stopped at a door. Pressing several buttons on the keypad next to the door, the device beeped and there was the distinct click of a lock sliding out of place. Hinoka lead them into the room beyond, which seemed to be a large storage room of some sort. She lead them all the way across the room, eventually reaching a cargo elevator.

"A secret elevator shaft," Hinoka explained. "Yagiri Pharmaceuticals often had…peculiarities sent via this elevator to this storage room. Things that had nothing to do with the development or testing of drugs. And now it'll give us an escape to the surface."

Shizuo climbed in after her and the doors closed behind him. The old elevator rattled upward, solo light flickering madly. Shizuo glanced over to his companion, who wore a tired but determined look on her face. Several questions came to mind, now that he had a moment to absorb what was going on. How had she known that he was assaulting the old Yagiri Pharmaceuticals building? How had she found him? There seemed only one likely answer, and he didn't particularly like some of the implications that came with that answer…

The elevator came to a halting stop, Shizuo's legs nearly buckling underneath him. The doors creaked open and Shizuo found himself not in the Yagiri Pharmaceuticals building, but in the open space some old warehouse. Glancing out of one of the broken windows of the building, he could see Yagiri Pharmaceuticals several buildings down from this one. It appeared that it extended much further underground than above.

And, as he gazed at the building through the window, it suddenly erupted into flame and smoke, the rumbling of several explosions going off rippling through the air and the ground. Shizuo stared at the building as it was consumed in a huge fireball and caught the sound of distant yells as the guards outside the complex took in the spectacle. Shizuo turned back to Hinoka, to see her reaction to this, and found her slipping a handheld detonator back into her pocket.

"We should get moving," Hinoka said, her eyes dancing in the light of the flames before them.

Shizuo nodded, but his gut tightened. Because while she had done her best to hide it, Hinoka had been unable to conceal the smile that tugged at the edge of her lips as she watched the Yagiri Pharmaceuticals building, and all those inside it, go up in flame.


	19. Chapter 19: Hinoka's Explanation

Shizuo brushed his hands through his hair, his fingers running past the shortened, black strands. He splashed another handful of water onto his face and looked up. His reflection stared back at him, a bruised and bloodied visage that he hardly recognized. It was a strange; like looking at an old photograph of a younger self and not even recognizing yourself.

 _All that potential, all that talent, and what do you do with it?_

Bastard. He didn't know.

 _You squander it, let it decay._

He couldn't possibly understand…

 _You could have cleaned up Ikebukuro ten times over by now, but you just sit on your ass and do nothing!_

That idiot didn't know what he was asking for…he had no idea what it was like…

 _How about stop being such a fucking coward and actually do something about it?!_

Water suddenly blasted Shizuo in the face as the faucet way under his grip. Swearing, he threw a hand up to block the stream as he fumbled with the broken sink with his other. After struggling with the damaged plumbing for several seconds and seeing that this wasn't going to be an easy fix, Shizuo angrily tossed aside the metal piece that had broken off and stormed out of the bathroom.

"Hey, so when do you think-?" Tom started, but he cut his sentence short at the sight of his dripping friend. "Er…everything okay in there?"

"Fine," Shizuo growled. "Perfect."

"Sure you don't need any help?"

"I said it's fine."

Tom raised an eyebrow, but said, "If you say so."

Shizuo pushed past his friend and started rummaging through the supply closet near the entrance of Celty and Shinra's apartment. Pushing aside several boxes listed only as "For Shinra's Eyes Only", Shizou grumbled as he searched through the overstuffed closet. Surely they had to have a toolbox somewhere in here…

"You think that Watanabe woman's going to be back any time soon?"

"Dunno," Shizuo replied, setting aside a box of black jumpsuits. "However long it takes someone to explain how an entire building under their supervision exploded?"

"And how long do you think that should take?"

"Why?"

"I've just got some questions for her," Tom said.

Shizuo eyed his friend, who quickly added, "Plus she's supposed to be bringing food."

Shizuo snorted. "And there lies the true motive."

He sighed as he dug out a box of hacksaws that appeared to be stained by…something. Trying not to think too much about it, Shizuo added, "Trust me, I've got a couple for her too."

"Something tells me that they might overlap a bit," Tom said. "First and foremost: Why the hell did she not tell us about-"

But he was interrupted by a ripping sound followed by a string of curse words from the closet.

"Why the hell does he even have this?" Shizuo growled as multicolored pages with pasted photographs rained around him, an empty binding with the words "Shinra's Scrapbook Volume 32" still hanging in his hand.

Tom gave him a small shrug, doing a poor job concealing the smirk on his face. "He's _your_ friend."

"Acquaintance," Shizuo corrected, trying to gather up the pages without looking too closely at the pasted pictures, most of which seemed to feature a certain Dullahan.

"Which, for you, is basically admitting that he's your friend."

"You think I'd be friends with someone who scrapbooks?"

"Hey, what's wrong with scrapbooking?!" Tom asked.

Shizuo raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing, I guess," he said, shoving the last couple pages back into the binding. "But this…this is just obsessive."

Tom, who had clearly gotten a glimpse of some of pages, could only nod in agreement.

"Fair enough," he said, "But his heart's in the right place."

"Is it?" Shizuo asked dubiously.

"You know what I mean," Tom said, rolling his eyes. "He's a good guy. Weird, sure. Obsessive, okay. But he's alright. And he's helped us out more times than once."

Shizuo shrugged. "Fine, fine."

"Look, all I'm saying is, friends are hard to come by. No sense in denying them, especially now."

Shizuo opened his mouth to retort, but Tom continued, saying, "And I know that you know all this already. But it also wouldn't hurt to start lowering some of those barriers you like to throw up. Let people know what you are actually feeling, how you actually feel about them. Because if you don't, then they might never know." The dreadlocked man shrugged. "Just saying."

Silence fell between them. Shizuo continued to dig through the closet, regarding what his friend had said.

"So what is it that you are looking for in there?" Tom asked after Shizuo had spent several more fruitless seconds searching.

"Their damn toolbox," Shizuo growled.

"Oh that?" Tom said, "They keep it under their kitchen sink."

Shizuo swore and started shoving boxes of scrapbooks and medical instruments back into the closet.

"See, it pays to ask for help sometimes," Tom chastised.

And while he said it in a joking manner, Shizuo knew that Tom wasn't just talking about the location of the toolbox. He had clearly been disappointed, maybe even a bit angry, that Shizuo had gone off to save Ruri without at the very least consulting him. But Shizuo wasn't really in the mood to have that conversation, so he didn't rise to the comment, resigning to putting the last couple boxes into the closet in silence.

Just as he was about to shove the final, strangely proclaimed "For Shinra's Eyes Only" box into a spot that was clearly too small for it, the door to the apartment opened. He spun, dropping the box, which clanged strangely when it hit the floor. His hands tightened into fists and his legs bent, primed to launch forward, all without him even thinking. He was ready to burst forth and unleash a fury upon whoever had managed to sneak up on them. But the person in the door was a lithe, red-headed woman with a familiar face. And Shizuo had to tell his body not to leap into action against Hinoka, to stand down from what it was so ready to do without even a single command.

But neither Hinoka, who had backed through the doorway, nor Tom, who had been instantly mesmerized by the multitude of to-go boxes that she was carrying, noticed Shizuo's reaction. He relaxed his hands and stood back his normal height.

 _All that potential, all that talent…_

He shook his head. That bastard had no idea what he was talking about.

It was a curse.

"Finally!" Tom exclaimed. "Here let me help you with those!"

"It's fine, I've got it," Hinoka tried to say, but Tom clearly wasn't listening, as he began to unload boxes from her arms into his own. Even Shizuo's stomach growled at the smell of Russian Sushi. He picked up the box he had dropped, gave it a hefty shove and then quickly closed the door to the closet before the box could fall out.

Hinoka gave him a quick nod before being dragged into the kitchen by Tom. Apparently, her meeting with Yagiri had gone well, or at least good enough that he had let her leave with her life. Shizuo followed the two of them into the kitchen and seated himself next to Tom, who was already digging into one of the to-go boxes. Hinoka was eyeing her own food with a dubious eye.

"Don't like sushi?" Tom asked as Shizuo seated himself down, noticing the skeptical look on Hinoka's face.

"Sushi's fine," she replied. "It's the Russian part that I'm concerned about."

"Well, if you don't want your serving I would be more than happy to-"

"It's fine. I'll eat it."

Tom shrugged and resumed eating.

Hinoka's grey eyes shifted from Tom to Shizuo, studying him carefully for a moment before she spoke.

"So, how are they?"

Shizuo shrugged. "Ruri's still trying to shake off the drugs but Shinra says that she should pull through. They wanted her sedated and confused, but they were also being careful not to kill her. The doc's still with Vorona. Haven't heard anything from him on her status."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Hinoka said, her normally professional tone softening for a moment. Had he let some of his concern slip into his voice? "She's been through worse."

 _And how would you know that?_ Shizuo thought to himself. _And just how much more do you know that you haven't let on?_

"Also, I believe most people take their clothes off _before_ they shower," Hinoka added with a raised eyebrow, "but to each their own, I suppose."

Shizuo stared at her blankly. What the hell was she talking about? And then he became acutely aware that he was still soaking wet and that Celty and Shinra's sink was flooding their bathroom. Cursing, he quickly grabbed the toolbox, which was exactly where Tom had said it would be, and rushed into the bathroom. After several minutes of combating the rushing water, he had managed a quick fix that had at least stopped the water from continuing to flow from the broken faucet. He found a mop in the bathroom closet (as well an exorbitant number of scented candles) and managed to clean up much of the mess he had made. Satisfied with his work, Shizuo reached over his duffle bag and dug out the familiar bartender's outfit. He eyed it, memories of another who wore the same thing flooded his mind. Shaking his head, he began to strip out of his soaked clothes.

The doppleganger's words continued bounce around his head. It seemed any open moment they would dive in to fill the void. He couldn't seem to shake them. For whatever reason, what the imposter had said was eating at him. And while he knew what the man had said wasn't entirely true, he could help but wonder-

"Is everything okay in here?" Hinoka's voice asked as the door to the bathroom started to slip open. "Tom said that you-oh."

Hinoka stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes briefly scanning over Shizuo's bare torso before bouncing to the corners of the room.

"Apologies," she said curtly, "I should have knocked."

Shizuo slid the white undershirt on over his head and shrugged. "Not a big deal."

Now that he was fully clothed, Hinoka once again looked to him, her pale face slightly flushed. "Right. Well, Tom said you may have broken something in here and since it had been awhile I thought I might be able to assist you and-"

"It's all taken care of." Shizuo waved a hand as he buttoned the shirt. "Sort of."

"Ah…well, that's good. What happened?"

"Slight malfunction plumbing malfunction."

"And how does something like that happen?" Hinoka asked.

Shizuo shrugged again and then started to slide the black vest on. "Guess I wasn't paying attention."

"And does that happen often?"

Shizuo looked up from his vest and saw that she was studying him, calculating, frowning. Her tone had changed from conversational to critical, almost judgmental in a way. And he knew exactly what she was getting at.

"No," he replied coolly. "I'm usually more careful."

"Usually though? So there are times when things like this happen?"

"I guess."

"Because you're not paying attention?"

"No. Usually because people are pissing me off," Shizuo replied.

"Ah, I see," Hinoka said, retreating from pressing any further. Clearly, she had taken the hint.

"Well, I shall try to refrain from, as you put so elegantly, 'pissing you off,' in the future," she added, her voice returning to an almost casual tone, though her normal clipped cadence remained. It was strange, almost military-esque in nature. It almost reminded him of Vorona, in that, even during a relaxed conversation, they both sounded deadly serious.

"I'd appreciate it," Shizuo said, his voice still cool. He wasn't done with her yet. "Especially since you've been doing a poor job of it so far."

"Is that so?" Hinoka said, her frown deepening. "Please, enlighten me."

"How about we start with the fact that you seemed to know exactly where Ruri was this whole time?" Shizuo said, suddenly jumping at the opportunity. "Or did you just happen to show up at the same time as the rest of us? Because that seems just a bit co-"

"Don't be a fool," Hinoka interrupted, "Of course I knew where she was, but I was only put in charge of her two days ago."

"Two days ago?!" Shizuo raged. "Then why not tell us? She had to endure two more days of that torture and for what?"

"Because," Hinoka said coolly, "I was hoping to avoid the situation that you just created. I knew that as soon as I let you know where she was, you were going to want to rush in and save her. However, as I'm sure you noticed, that turned out to be quite messy, and we barely made it out alive. My plan was to reveal to all of you that I knew where Ruri was when she was about to be transported, and thus it would have been much easier to get her then. Not that any of that matters anymore. What happened has happened and I suggest we move on from it."

"No," Shizuo said, still fuming. "You should have trusted us. Withholding that kind of information is unacceptable. If I can't trust you, then this is going to work."

"It's interesting to hear you say that," Hinoka said, "when you didn't seem to trust me enough to let me know that you had located Ruri. Or perhaps I merely missed your call?"

Shizuo opened his mouth to reply, but no words came. It was true; he hadn't trusted her. In fact, he hadn't trusted anyone but himself to successfully rescue Ruri.

"There wasn't time," he fumbled. "They said they would be moving her and-"

"So what you are saying," Hinoka said, "is that there was time to completely alter your appearance and purchase those clothes you were wearing, but not enough to call me? Or even tell Tom?" She wagged a patronizing finger at Shizuo, a gesture that only fuel his anger. "It doesn't make much sense when it's said aloud, does it?"

"You have no idea what you are-"

"Look," Hinoka interrupted, "I get it. I've been where you are before. Hell, I sometimes lapse back to it, as you just saw. You feel like you are not only the only one that can handle these situations, but also that you are the only one that _should_ be putting yourself into danger. You want to protect your friends, but you might only be hurting them more by thinking that you have to do everything on your own."

Shiuzo tried to respond, but found that he didn't know what to say.

"Like you said," Hinoka continued, "You need to trust me if we are going to work together. But that street goes both ways. Same goes for everyone here. Tom. Celty. Shinra. We both screwed up. I think we both recognize that now, no? So, with that in mind, and that we are both going to do better in the future, let's not argue anymore about something that can't be changed and focus on what we should do next."

Shizuo stared at her, peering deep into her grey eyes. And while they were normally carefully guarded, now they seemed open, the sincerity in her words overly apparent in her expression. He didn't necessarily like admitting that he was in the wrong, but what she had said was true. He hadn't let anyone else in on what he had learned, not Celty, not Shinra, not Tom. He had instead rushed off on his own, fearing that they would drag their feet and slow him down. And, as she had pointed out, these were just the surface level hesitations. Really, he only wanted to put himself in danger…

"Fine," Shizuo grunted, "But I have more questions for you."

Hinoka nodded. "I thought you might. But I have some for you as well."

Shizuo's eyebrows raised.

"Like what?"

"Well," she said, taking a step into the bathroom and leaning up against one of the walls, "I'm curious how you figured out where Ruri was."

"Ah," Shizuo said, thinking back to the mysterious phone call he had received. Given everything that had happened, it seemed even stranger now that he thought about it. "Well, it wasn't so much as me figuring it out as it was someone telling me where she was."

Hinoka's brows knotted. "Someone told you? Who?"

"Don't know," Shizuo said with a shrug. "They called me and their voice was all garbled. Could have been anyone."

"Not anyone," Hinoka replied, clearly thinking this new information over. "They would have needed to know that Yagiri was keeping Ruri at the old pharmaceuticals building and only a select few would have information like that."

"Well, yeah," Shizuo said, "I didn't mean that it could literally be an-"

"And they knew that she was being moved out of Japan?"

Shiuzo nodded.

"That narrows it down even more," Hinoka said, her eyes narrowing in thought. "Pretty much anyone working at the old pharmaceuticals building would know that Ruri was there, but very few would have known about her scheduled transfer."

"You think someone in Yagiri's ranks contacted me then?"

"Or, at the very least, there was someone willing to part that information to someone else," Hinoka said. "Regardless, the list of suspects in small. We find out who, and we could easily trace the path of information."

"Sure, I suppose," Shizuo said, a bit confused. "But why does it even matter? We already have Ruri, so who cares where I got the information from?"

"Because no one would part with that type of information freely," HInoka said. "Did they ask you for anything in exchange?"

"No," Shizuo replied, "Just gave me some bullshit about having a 'vested interest' in the situation, whatever that means."

Hinoka nodded. "No, that makes sense. Clearly, whoever gave you this information has something to do with these kidnappings. But where do they stand, and what could they possibly gain from you rescuing Ruri?"

"Maybe they're a rival of Yagiri's?" Shizuo suggested.

"Perhaps," Hinoka said, "It would make sense. A disgruntled employee could have gone over to one of Yagiri's enemies. But anyone like that would have likely offered you some sort of reward or something else to ensure that you would go after Ruri. I'm thinking that whoever called you doesn't have the resources that Yagiri's business rivals have."

"Or maybe they knew I would go anyhow," Shizuo said.

"It's possible," Hinoka said, "But that's not how these people think."

"Okay, fine," Shizuo said, getting a little angry that she was being so dismissive of his theory. Just because she hadn't thought of it didn't mean it was wrong. "Then who else could have it been?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It could have been one of Yagiri's people, someone like me who was sick of seeing him go through with these sick experiments of his. But I doubt it. The people who would have access to such information could probably be swayed to part with information for a paycheck and maybe one or two would do it just to spite Yagiri, but I doubt any of them would have called you directly. No, whoever called you probably had gotten the information through an underground network of some sort."

"Seems…plausible," Shizuo agreed. "But you still haven't said why any of this matters."

"For two reasons. One," Hinoka said, lifting a finger to illustrate her point, "because getting to know who all of the players are at your particular table is key to claiming victory in any game, and clearly whoever called you is involved in some way."

"And two," she continued, holding up a second finger, "is that if this person has the contacts to track down the location of Ruri, they may also have the ability to find Akane."

"So you're suggesting we track them down?"

"Perhaps," Hinoka said. "It's certainly a lead, at any rate."

"But if they knew where Akane was, wouldn't they have told me that too?" Shizuo pointed out.

"Not necessarily," Hinoka replied. "I doubt they told you where Ruri was just because they wanted to see her free. There was likely some other reason behind it. And while this person may know where Akane is, it might not serve them to tell you where she is at this moment. Maybe ever. However, it is still very possible that they may, at the very least, have a lead as to where she might be."

Shizuo shook his head. "Sounds like a lot of work to find this person who might not even have the information we need."

"True," Hinoka said. "But right now, it's better than nothing."

Shizuo had to concede to her on that point. Sitting around doing nothing wasn't really an option. He had done that once already.

"Do you think you can find out who was the leak among Yagiri's men?"

Hinoka nodded. "I'm sure I can. I'll have to be careful though. Yagiri will likely be watching me like a hawk after what happened. I don't think he entirely bought my story."

"What was it that you ended up telling him?" Shizuo asked, glad that the conversation had turned towards one of his questions.

Hinoka smirked, which briefly reminded him of the smile she had on face as she watched Yagiri Pharmaceuticals burn to the ground. For a moment during their discussion, he had forgotten that there was a reason he hadn't trusted this woman with the information about Ruri's location. But small details like that smile made him wary. While she seemed sincere in her willingness to help him and his friends, he had a feeling that there was something else to this woman.

"I told him the truth," she said. "That Shizuo Heiwajima had broken in, freed Ruri, and destroyed the facility."

Shizuo stared at her blankly.

"Why the hell did you do that?" he exploded. "Now I'll have his men hunting after me too!"

Hinoka waved a dismissive hand. "I'm in charge of hunting you, though I wouldn't be surprised if he assigned someone else as well. But regardless, what's another organization in the whole scheme of things? You already have the Awakusu and the various gangs beneath them plus law enforcement looking for you."

"Are you even listening to yourself?"

"Hey," she said, "I wasn't the one who decided to assault one of Yagiri's facilities head on. He already had you on several of the exterior cameras, so it only made sense to pin everything on you. Lying about that would have only made me appear even more suspicious and, like I said, you already have to be careful where you go."

Once again, she seemed to have a point.

Shizuo folded arms and grunted, "Alright, alright."

"Hey, all things considered, it could have been worse," Hinoka said. "We saved Ruri. That's all that really matters. And now we have several leads for Akane that we can follow up on."

"Several?" Shizuo asked, confused. "I thought it was just the mystery caller?"

Hinoka shook her head. "Not just that. Unless you've forgotten, Nori was there as well."

"Nori?" Shizuo asked. But then he remembered back to the brief exchange between Hinoka and his doppleganger.

"The imposter?"

Hinoka nodded. "Nori Nakamura. Completely crazy. Totally obsessed with you." She paused and gave him a small smile. "I don't get what he's fussing about to be honest though."

Not entirely sure how to the take what he assumed was supposed to be a playful jab, Shizuo shifted his weight.

"Sounded like you knew him personally," Shizuo said, trying to push past her comment. "Care to elaborate?"

"Sure," Hinoka said. "He's a merc. Ex-military, I think. Martial arts expert. Worked with him a couple times before. A total creep. Didn't know he was working for Yagiri though and I had just learned that he had taken his obsession with Shizuo Heiwajima to a whole new level. I suppose that's another plus; we won't have to deal with him anymore."

"But, wait," Shizuo said, "If he was working for Yagiri, that might mean that-"

"Yagiri managed to kidnap Akane?" Hinoka finished for him. "Yes, that's certainly a possibility now."

"But didn't you say earlier that you didn't think Yagiri kidnapped her?"

Hinoka nodded. "I did. And I still think that's the case. I don't see how I could have missed something like that. However, I suppose there is still the small chance that Yagiri may be even more paranoid than I thought."

"But if this Nori guy was working for Yagiri, surely it must have been Yagiri that he kidnapped Akane for?"

"Not necessarily," Hinoka said. "In fact, I think it's very possible that he was contracted by someone else. You see, from what I was able to tell, Nori was looking to become the new you, complete with all the supernatural strength and ability to withstand extreme damage without hardly noticing. He saw you as the ultimate warrior, I think. Regardless of his reasons behind his actions, he was trying to replicate your…attributes within himself."

Shizuo thought back to the fight, how his doppleganger had seemed impossibly strong and had been able to withstand even his most powerful strikes. Certainly something that a normal human being would be incapable of.

"Well, he seemed to be at least slightly successful," Shizuo admitted. "But how?"

"I think he's been working for people like Yagiri," Hinoka said. "People who not only specialize in the collection of the supernatural, but seek to experiment on it, to unlock its secrets. If I had to hypothesize, I think he offered himself up as a test subject for some of his employers, taking that as payment for his services."

Shizuo shook his head, unable to understand why anyone would want to subject themselves to such treatment. For what? Even if the tests were successful…

"That doesn't make sense," he said under his breath. "Why would he do that?"

"People go to great measures to obtain power," Hinoka noted.

"And do you think that was all it was?"

Hinoka paused for a moment, staring straight ahead at the mirror in front of her.

"For Nori," she said. "No. His obsession, I think, was something else. Something you or I could never understand."

The two of them stood in silence. The doppleganger's words rang in Shizuo's head. Words that had been spoken in such scalding anger and passion. Words that only came from darkest, deepest of wounds. Something had happened to that man, something that had turned him into a monster hungry for the power that he thought could right whatever had wronged him.

"But if he's dead, how does that help us?" Shizuo finally said, drawing them both out of their thoughts.

"Like I said, I've worked with Nori before," Hinoka said. "I know what channels he works through, some of his contacts. Maybe we can track down who he kidnapped Akane for through them."

Shizuo nodded. That seemed like a good plan. Certainly more promising than hunting down his mysterious caller, though he admitted that he was curious who had contacted him.

"Sounds like we have a semblance of a plan moving forward then," Shizuo said.

"Yes," Hinoka said, agreeing. "Though I do have some questions for your friend before we do anything."

"Vorona?"

"Indeed," she said. "I have a feeling that she has some information that we could find useful before proceeding."

"What kind of information?"

"She's working for someone, and I have a hunch on who it might be. And if he's involved, then this just got a whole lot more interesting."

Shizuo raised an eyebrow.

"Why do I get the feeling that 'interesting' and 'dangerous' mean the same thing for you?"

Hinoka smiled and winked. "You might not be far off, Heiwajima."

Shizuo studied the woman in front of him. She had saved him not once, but twice now. She had worked with him to find Ruri, and while they hadn't exactly been on the same page on how to do that best, in the end they had succeeded. She had helped him save Vorona without a question, trusting him even though Vorona was a complete unknown in the situation. And while there were small things that he couldn't help but feel uneasy about, Hinoka had been nothing but helpful. Every single paranoid misgiving he had about her had turned out to be false. And hadn't he had similar such doubts about Vorona at times? Maybe it was time, as Tom had said, to stop pushing people away, especially those that were trying to help him.

"We should probably get back to the kitchen," Hinoka said quickly, the silence between them becoming noticeable. "Or else Tom will have eaten everything."

"Wait, Hinoka," Shizuo said, reaching out and grabbing her by the shoulder as she turned to leave. She spun on her heels, an expression of surprise on her face.

"Er…sorry," Shizuo said quickly. "I just wanted to…you know…"

He scratched the back of his neck. _Dammit, Tom, this is why I don't do these types of things…_

"Just…thanks," he said flatly. "For helping Kasuka."

Her grey eyes studied his own for a second, searching for, well he wasn't sure what they were searching for. But then her expression brightened, as much as he had seen it do so since he had met her. A genuine smile spread across her face, which she seemed to notice and then quickly hid behind a curt nod.

"Of course," she said. "Though I expect a decent payday at the end of all this."

"Well, you are talking to the wrong guy."

"Mmmm, unfortunate. I don't usually work for free."

"Usually?"

"I make some exceptions, from time to time."

"This isn't one of those times?"

Hinoka eyed him for a moment before turning once more to leave the bathroom.

"To be determined, Mr. Heiwajima," she said over her shoulder. "To be determined. And who knows, maybe you'll be able to pay me somehow once this is all said and done."


	20. Chapter 20: A New Alliance

"So then Shizuo comes around the corner and walks up to the guy and he immediately recognizes what sort of-"

Tom cut his story short, his attention turning from those seated around the counter to something over Shizuo's shoulder. Shizuo turned and saw Shinra had just exited his bedroom. He looked exhausted. Shoulders slumped, glasses askew and down his nose, white jacket smeared dark red. Shizuo felt himself stiffen at the sight, the anxiety he had not realized he was feeling suddenly jerking to the forefront of his mind.

"Is she-?" Tom started.

"She'll be fine," Shinra said, and while he was attempting his normal chipper tone, he was clearly tired.

"I've fixed up worse before," he added, giving a nod in Shizuo's direction. "But if you don't mind, I think I'm just going to…"

With a huge sigh, Shinra collapsed on the sofa in the connecting living room. Hinoka eyed the doctor dubiously.

"You trust this guy with fixing you up?"

Shizuo shrugged. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Fair enough," Hinoka ceded. She gave the crumpled up form of Shinra a final critical glance before turning to Shizuo. "So, you up for talking with her?"

Shizuo nodded. "If she is, that is."

"Alright," Hinoka said, standing up. "But just be aware…you might not like the answers you find in there."

Shizuo's body stiffened at the warning. It was true, something that he had accepted as a possibility weeks earlier but had forgotten in the rush of events that had just transpired. They very well could be on opposite sides of this fight.

"Let's just do this," Shizuo replied, standing up himself and heading for the door that Shinra had just exited. His hand hovered over the handle, hesitating for just a moment before squeezing it tightly. The slick metal felt cold in his palm, absorbing all the heat it could from his hand. He twisted it. The click of the bolt freeing itself echoed in his head, amplified by the silence of tension. Slowly, he pulled the door open, bracing for what lay beyond.

The sound of the door clicking open sent a jolt through Vorona's gut.

 _And so it begins…_

The man that stepped into the room was one she only vaguely recognized. His normally untidy blonde locks had been cropped close and dyed black. Purple bruises surrounded one eye and a long, stitched gash ran along the opposite cheek. Gone were the tinted sunglasses and bartender's uniform, replaced by non-descript jeans and a black sweatshirt, neither of which said anything about the man before her.

This wasn't the Shizuo Heiwajima she remembered.

And maybe he wasn't.

He stepped into the room, moving slowly but deliberately. There was power in every stride, an unassuming confidence in his gait. But each step hitched ever so slightly, a doubt clouding his movements.

She kept her focus on these minute details, scouring for any sign that could give her a glimpse into his mindset. To try and understand where he stood. And it gave her a good excuse not to meet his gaze.

But then another person followed him, and she was given something else to curtail her attention. She recognized the woman instantly; Hinoka Watanabe. Or at least, that was what she was going by now. If Kurai was to be believed, the real Hinoka Watanabe was dead, and the woman before her merely taking on her identity. She was lithe but muscled and her body moved with military precision. Every movement was controlled, methodically trained exactness. Vorona could tell that she was every bit as dangerous as Kurai had let on. And if her actions on the tape and the stories Kurai had shared were anything to go by, she had the cold-blooded personality to match. Steel grey eyes betrayed nothing, saying nothing but cool poise.

 _So…they are working together,_ Vorona surmised. The tapes that she had recovered from Tom's apartment had suggested as much, but given the lack of context and audio, it had left some room for interpretation. This was seeming to leave less.

The two moved into the room, Shizuo adopting a position on the wall opposite the bed that Vorona had awoken to find herself in. Meanwhile, the red-haired woman slid a chair across the room and positioned herself between Vorona and Shizuo. Sitting herself down, the woman calling herself Hinoka looked over Vorona with a critical stare, a look that Vorona returned.

"So," Hinoka said, breaking the silence between them, "I'm not really one for pleasantries or introductions. And I'm certain that everyone here knows each other, no?"

Vorona gave a curt nod. _So she knows who I am…_

"Good," Hinoka said. "Then we can just get right to it."

The red-haired woman paused, locking her gaze with Vorona's.

"Want to explain what you were doing at Yagiri Pharmaceuticals?"

"I'd ask you the same question."

"I asked first."

Hinoka gave her a cool smile. Vorona frowned, but she had known this was going to happen. And if she were to figure out this woman's goals, Vorona knew she would need to cede some information herself.

"Very well," Vorona said. "I had received some intelligence that Seitarou Yagiri was holding Akane Awakusu there. I was there to take her out of his possession."

"I had assumed as much," Hinoka said. "It seems that young Akane Awakusu has become a person of interest for many as of late. I'm curious as to your own reasons. Not many would risk the Awakusu's wrath, and even fewer would be foolish enough to do it without a good reason. You don't seem foolish to me."

Vorona raised an eyebrow.

"Was there a question there?"

"Merely an observation," Hinoka said, waving her hand. "Now, Shizuo says that he saw you at Rakuei Gym the day that Akane was kidnapped. He noted that you sped after the car that she was taken in. Your explanation?"

"Once again," Vorona said, "I was merely attempting to remove her from the possession of her kidnappers."

"I see," Hinoka said. "Very…philanthropic of you. Certainly not what one would expect of a hired-gun of your renown. Which makes me wonder…"

"I thought we were speaking plainly."

Hinoka frowned.

"Let me posit the following then," Hinoka said coolly. "And you can tell me how close I am to the truth, hm?"

Vorona didn't answer. Her eyes wandered to Shizuo for a moment, trying to gauge how he was responding to this interaction. But he was closed off, arms folded across his chest as he looked downward, staring at a spot on the floor between himself and Hinoka.

"I'll take the silence as an invitation for me to continue," HInoka said. "Vorona, you had spent the previous thirteen months hunting down your father. He's not an easy man to get to, but you had yet to fail to find a target. And it is only made easier when said target wants to be found. You fell into the trap, blinded with vengeance and exhaustion. And thus you met your current employer, who likely spun you a tale of absurdity. But there was just enough truth to what he said, just enough pieces to the puzzle to make you question yourself. He likely had some leverage over you, but really, it was the curiosity behind what he said that truly drove you to follow him, the fact that he may have answers to questions that you were too scared to ask yourself. So, under the guise of blackmail, you told yourself you had no choice, regardless of acts he was asking you to partake in. You had to do what he said, even if it meant kidnapping a child for a man who was clearly unstable. You'd figure something out, find some way out of this, you told yourself. And maybe, just maybe, you'd find out if there was any truth to his claims along the way. And while you've been helping him, the line between what is true and what is fantasy has become blurred even more, to the point where you know not who to trust or what is real…the only thing you know is that you need to help him, for only by doing so can you get yourself out of the predicament that you find yourself in. And so you've been attempting to kidnap Akane Awakusu in the name of his bizarre crusade, a crusade that you find could hold the answers you seek. That's how you knew that she was too be kidnapped at Rakuei Gym, that's how you knew she was at the old pharmaceuticals building. Because the shinigami told you so, and because you are working for him."

Hinoka finished and stared at Vorona, leaning forward and locking her with the steely gaze. Daring her to tell her she was wrong. Behind Hinoka, Vorona could see that Shizuo had looked up, his attention now on her. A grim look was fixed upon his face.

It was impressive. Hinoka was clearly well informed, though she spoke in fairly general terms. Which likely meant the following: Hinoka had no idea as to the details of her arrangement with Kurai, but was filling in details from previous encounters with him. Clearly, something similar to the situation that she, Vorona, found herself in had happened before.

Perhaps even to Hinoka herself.

Hinoka leaned back in the chair at Vorona's continued silence.

"Perhaps I hit a bit too close?" A tinge of smug satisfaction could be found in the other woman's voice.

"My silence was not due to your accusation," Vorona said suddenly. "Or at least not in the way you think. Though your hypothesis was quite informative, so thank you for that."

Hinoka frowned. Clearly, that had not been the response she had been expecting.

"You deny it then?" the red-haired woman asked, her brows knotting.

"You're free to believe whatever you wish," Vorona said, "But let me now ask you something."

"That's not how this works."

"No?" Vorona said. "Is this an interrogation or just free exchange of information?"

Hinoka paused. "Clearly the latter, but if you are going to treat it like the former, then I believe that…"

"You were the one that denied me to ask a question, not the other way around."

"You're purposefully being evasive and-"

"Stop this."

Vorona's next retort caught in her throat. Shizuo unfolded his arms and stopped leaning against the wall, his firm words stopping both women in their tracks. He looked between the two of them, frowning.

"Hinoka," he said, looking to the red-haired woman, "You want to help Akane, yes?"

"Of course."

Shizuo nodded. He then looked to Vorona. It took all her mental fortitude not to look away when he fixed his gaze on her. Why couldn't she meet his eyes?

 _Maybe because you're afraid of what you might see there…_

"Vorona," he said, "The same goes for you, no? You want to help Akane?"

She nodded.

"Well then," he said, leaning back up against the wall and folding his arms, "I don't see what the problem here is. Seems like we want the same things, so how about we just stop playing games?"

He looked between the two of them, clearly asking one of them to combat his logic. Had he come to her defense, or was he merely trying to get the bottom of this discussion as he had suggested?

"Fine," Hinoka said, her brows knotting even further. She then turned back to Vorona, her steely stare now punctuated by flames smoldering just below the surface. "But I expect her to cooperate as well."

"I have been."

Hinoka's glare was matched with an exasperated look from Shizuo. _I'm trying to help you out here,_ he seemed to be saying, _so stop making it worse._

Vorona clenched her jaw. She didn't need any help, nor did she need to be scolded like an unruly schoolgirl. He clearly didn't understand how these types of things worked. If she relented now, gave up too much information to someone who may turn out to be her enemy…there was a reason behind the mind games. Both women were feeling the other out, trying to see where an upper hand could be gained in the future. And just giving in could prove to be deadly. This was a world that Shizuo didn't understand.

But there was something else to be gleaned from Shizuo's pleading expression. Once her initial frustration with it had worn down slightly, she recognized that he was genuinely trying to help her out. There was concern mixed with the annoyance and frustration in that look he gave her.

She turned back to Hinoka and unclenched her jaw.

"Perhaps let me explain," she said, still not willing to fully relent to the woman. "I have answered every question you have asked truthfully. Your long statement about my perceived situation was just that, a statement. An assumption. So perhaps we both need to swallow our pride here for a moment if we are to have a productive conversation."

Hinoka opened her mouth to retort but caught herself. The flames in her eyes subsided.

"I-well," Hinoka said slowly, "I suppose that wouldn't be the worst course of action."

"Good," Vorona said, eyeing Shizuo as he gave her a small nod from over Hinoka's shoulder.

"And while I do not feel comfortable giving all the details," Vorona continued, "I can say that some of your assumptions were indeed correct. However, for my own safety, I do not think going into detail on that matter will be in my best interest at this moment. I'm sure you understand that."

Hinoka nodded slowly, taking in what Vorona's small confirmation meant.

"I see," she said, "And I do understand. In fact, it'll probably best for all of us if you do refrain from the details at this time. We'll need you to be as truthful as you can around him."

Shizuo frowned. "I feel like I'm missing something here…"

"I'll explain later," Hinoka said, turning to him. "For now, just know that Vorona's current employer is an extremely perceptive being and it'll be beneficial for all of us if she can remain in his good graces for now."

"That's hardly helpful," Shizuo growled.

"I apologize," Vorona said, jumping in. "If I felt like it was beneficial to relay more information at this time, I would."

Shizuo's attention shifted over to her. He searched her face for a moment, and while he didn't seem to find the answer he was looking for, he sighed and said, "Alright fine. But I don't like being kept in the dark."

"Don't worry," Hinoka said, a strangely soothing tone suddenly leaking into her voice. "Like I said, I'll explain more later."

Vorona felt a lurch in her gut. Did she really want this woman to 'explain' her situation to Shizuo? Who knew what she would say. But she didn't really have a choice, at least for now. She had to play this part until she could get Shizuo away from her.

"So," Vorona said, pushing the conversation forward, "I believe it is my turn to ask a question?"

Hinoka turned back to her. "I suppose that's fair."

Vorona nodded. "You very pointedly stated how…'philanthropic' my actions to rescue Akane seemed. I could ask you the same question though. Are you not a hired gun yourself?"

Hinoka frowned. "You want to know what I stand to gain from this?"

"Partially."

"Well, Mr. Heiwajima and I have briefly discussed some sort of payment—"

"What kind of payment?"

"The details…hadn't exactly been arranged yet so…"

"So, you're saying that you've been helping him without any sort of expectation of being paid?"

"It's not exactly—"

"She wanted to help my brother," Shizuo jumped in. "Hinoka was put as his handler to make sure he didn't go to the police after his girlfriend was taken. She realized that what Yagiri was doing was wrong and decided to help Kasuka."

Vorona raised an eyebrow. "Is that what she told you?"

Shizuo nodded.

Vorona looked back to Hinoka, who was now frowning at Shizuo, her face slightly flushed.

"I see," Vorona said. "And you, Shizuo Heiwajima? How do you fit into all of this?"

Shizuo sighed before launching into his explanation; how his brother had managed to contact him, warning him of some sort of danger, how he had seen his doppleganger kidnap Akane, and had joined forces with Hinoka to try and save Ruri and Akane.

As she listened to Shizuo's story, Vorona could not help but feel a weight being lifted off her. Finally, it was all starting to make sense. Finally, she understood his motivations, finally had clarification on how Shizuo Heiwajima could have found himself in this such a situation. And all his actions, all his choices, matched with the Shizuo she remembered, the one that she had once dared to call a friend. It was a relief to know, that despite everything that had happened over the last several weeks, despite his changed appearance and seemingly suspect choices, that he was truly the same person.

She hoped.

Because, while she desperately wanted to believe every word that came from her friend's mouth, the visage of Hinoka between them was a constant reminder that not everything may be as it seems. With her in the picture, there was still a shadow of doubt. How much sway did the red-haired assassin have over Shizuo? Was she perhaps merely using him for her own devious purposes, whatever those might be? Vorona couldn't believe that she would just be helping Shizuo and his brother just out of the goodness of her heart…so what was her true agenda?

While Kurai was many things, there was one thing he had never done: he had not lied to her. He believed every word he spoke, and Vorona had no doubt that what he had told her about this Hinoka Watanbe was entirely true. Vorona could tell as soon as she had stepped into the room that the red-haired woman was not only deadly, but that she understood that fact. Not only understood it, but relished in it.

 _What is it that you want, Hinoka Watanbe?_

Shizuo finished his tale, recounting how the true identity of the doppleganger and how he and Hinoka had come to two possible leads moving forward. As he had spoken, Vorona noticed how Hinoka seemed to squirm slightly every time he gave away a key detail of information. However, she hadn't interrupted him. She had allowed him to speak his piece, though she clearly was not happy in how much information he had divulge. Had they perhaps spoken before about what he would say? Or had she given him a story to say and he had gone off script?

Vorona realized, how much she needed to talk to him in private. Away from Hinoka, away from Kurai, away from all of it. Somewhere that they could speak in true confidentiality. Because, in this web of deception and manipulation, there was only one person she trusted.

The question was if he felt the same way.

She hadn't exactly been forthcoming with her own side of the events, but with Hinoka here…no, it couldn't be helped. There hadn't been a choice. She couldn't trust the woman, even if Shizuo seemed to. And if that meant that Shizuo couldn't trust her in the meantime, then so be it.

"So," she said carefully, "Which are we going to start with? The doppleganger's contacts or trying to track down this mysterious caller?"

" _We,"_ Hinoka said, "are going to look into Nori's contacts. _You,_ on the other hand, will be resting here and then returning to your employer."

"No," Vorona said immediately, "I'm coming with you. And I'm not going back to him if I can—"

"We need you on the inside," Hinoka said quickly. "And if you stray too long, then he'll become suspicious. We can't risk that."

"Need me on the inside?" Vorona asked.

Hinoka sighed in frustration. "Your employer is looking for Akane as well, no? Might as well use his resources as well as our own. Plus, perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone and help you out of your predicament as well. Unless you have that covered?"

"I—no, but—"

"If Vorona feels that she is up for it," Shizuo interjected, "then I see no reason for us not to allow her to help us find Nori's contacts."

Hinoka turned back to Shizuo. "Mr. Heiwajima, I really don't think that is a wise decision. She's clearly not fully recovered and—"

Shizuo shrugged. "If she says that she's ready, then my trainee is ready. If we are going to find Akane, we'll need all the help we can get."

"But—"

"You don't agree?"

Hinoka frowned and turned away from Shizuo. "This is a bad idea."

"Maybe," Shizuo said. "Only one way to find out."

"You're far too reckless, Mr. Heiwajima."

"It's worked out for me so far."

HInoka sighed and stood up from her chair. "Fine. But if she slows us down in any way—"

"She won't."

" _If_ she does," Hinoka said forcefully, "don't expect me to slow down for her."

Shizuo shrugged again.

"Fine," Hinoka said in a bit of a huff, "I'm going to make some calls." And with that the red-haired woman stalked out of the room, her agitation clear in her stride.

Vorona gave Shizuo a small nod. They were alone, finally, but all the questions she wanted to ask, all the information that she had withheld that she now wanted to share, failed to surface. She found them caught at the back of her throat, the vulnerability that she would feel by voicing them holding her back.

"Thank you," she managed.

Shizuo removed himself from the wall he had been leaning against and gave her a small nod. He was clearly tired, his mental state worn thin. This strange war was taking its toll, and they seemed no closer to unweaving the web than when it had begun.

He headed towards the door of the room, his steps heavy. Was he leaving already? With a twist, the handle of the door clicked open.

"Just don't make me regret it."

He took a step out, but paused in the doorframe.

"Get some rest. I need my trainee at full strength."

And with that, he was gone, the door closing behind him.


End file.
